


Sanguine's Inner Daemons

by OmniGamer



Series: A Rose's Thorns [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Amnesia, Anal, Bittersweet Ending, Body Mimicry, Bondage, F/M, Hand Jobs, Heartbreak, M/M, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Multi, Other, Sharing sensations, Slow Burn, Tentacle Monsters, champion to reluctant friend to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmniGamer/pseuds/OmniGamer
Summary: Sanguine is looking for a new champion. An unlucky mercenary just happens to catch his attention. Said unlucky mercenary would rather not be involved, but somehow it's not just him falling... dare he think, in love.





	1. The Devil You Know

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to Doppi for being my beta-reader, and initial instigator of this bout of mischief. Additional thanks to my lore-librarian Wolf, and moral support crew Adi and Skit. This is probably the fastest I've ever gotten out something this long.

“Now here looks like a man who can drink,” said a rather inebriated Breton. He sauntered up to the bar and inserted himself beside Daemon. 

Daemon tried desperately to ignore the figure who had decided to join him, his gaze quickly darting away. He took another slow sip of his ale, golden eyes fixed on the swirl of dark liquid as he set the tankard down.

The robed stranger wasn’t keen on Daemon continuing to ignore him. 

As the drunken smile slipped from his face, Daemon cautiously reached for the hunting knife tucked into his belt.

While he had no intention of killing the drunk sop, a blade did wonders for making a drunkard back down from a potential brawl.

“Sam,” the Breton said.

Again, Daemon remained silent, though his brow did twitch with his confusion. His hand moved away from his knife. There would likely be no need of it.

“Name’s Sam.”

“Good for you…”

“Ho, The man actually talks.”

Rising to his feet, Daemon tossed a few coins on the bar to pay for his drink and the stew he had finished. “And, he’s not interested.” He hoped to shut down the conversation before it even started.

The Breton seemed a little conflicted with Daemon’s decision to leave. “Hey now… I haven’t even proposed anything.”

With a sigh, Daemon relented just enough to give the Breton an answer. “You didn’t need to. I’ve seen you around, and short of the Nord who declined you similarly a few years back, people seem to go missing around you.”

Almost sheepishly, the Breton scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “Sounds like you’ve been spying on me. That alone should earn me some of your time. Privacy infringement and all tha-”

“You’re bad luck, and I don’t need that sort of thing in my line of work.”

“Who’s saying anything about mixing work with… _ pleasure?” _

Daemon shot an icy glare at the Breton before stiffly walking away.

* * *

Sanguine shut his mouth with a tight click of his jaw. He was dumbfounded, confused even, by the mixed scent of desire and denial. Especially as he watched the Imperial leave while continually emitting a particularly lustful aroma.

The Daedric Prince was left scratching his head at his prey’s obvious interest despite the man’s claims and actions otherwise.

_It seemed he would have to work a bit harder to capture this elusive prey..._

* * *

“Hello there,” the Daedra lay across the bed of furs. Crimson tattoos glowing like dull embers in the gloom of Daemon’s rented room - each very uncovered and sweeping over every inch of the copper-skinned Daedra. Bronzed horns swept back over shoulder-length raven waves.

Ignoring the figure taking up his bed, Daemon slowly shrugged his pack from his shoulders and laid his bow with it near the armoire. He went to the room’s sole mirror and unwrapped the shaving kit he had left at the base of it.

With how much trouble he got into, finding a Daedra in his bed was not unexpected. To find Sanguine… again, was actually unexpected… 

_ Or maybe not… _ as he thought about it. But, it had been enough of a while. He had thought the Daedra had forgotten him.

Daemon contemplated the body sprawled behind him, eyes meeting for the briefest second in the mirror before he turned his attention to his stubble. “I’m hardly inebriated…” he said, picking up a bottle of oil and applying it to his cheeks. Daemon picked up his shaving razor next and flicked the folded steel open.

The Daedra stretched, then began inspecting his nails. “No… but, you oh so desperately want to fuck me.”

Daemon couldn’t help laughing at Sanguine’s audacity. “Do I?”

“Everyone does.” 

The words were said so-matter-of-factly, the man managed to knick his face. He hissed and touched the blooming bead of red.

“Clumsy,” chided Sanguine, suddenly at Daemon’s shoulder. A thick arm reached around and plucked the blade from his fingers. “Allow me…”

With a push, Daemon found himself falling back, his knees catching the edge of a chair as he fell into it. “You shave…?” Daemon was admittedly surprised.

“Not personally, but pleasure can be derived from even the tiniest thing. Now, no talking. We don't want any more cuts to that precious face of yours.” The blade flicked out dangerously close to his eye, and his mouth immediately snapped closed. Any protest died as one of the Daedra’s hands gripped his shoulder. The Daedra's other hand worked over the bare stubble along his chin with the razor's edge.

After a few skilled strokes, and no sensed hostility, Daemon found himself relaxing. It had been a fair while since he let anyone shave him, and infinitely long since an immortal had even thought of such an act. He wouldn’t dare think it made him lucky though.

Sanguine seemed to almost purr with his growing ease, those glowing tattoos of his burning just a touch brighter, his fingers growing more sure with every passing flick of steel. “That’s it…”

Daemon didn’t relax long though, hands on his belt buckle had his eyes shooting down towards the stranger kneeling between his legs. He tried to jump back, only to be stopped by a gentle pressure against his throat. The razor’s dull back pressing against flesh as a warning to sit still.

“Relax. Let Uncle Sam take care of you.”

His fingers tightened around the chair’s arms as his belt was undone and his breeches pulled open. 

The Daedra kept the blade against his neck until his cock had been freed and lay present over its cloth coverings, and even then, the razor remained close by as an ever-present reminder to not move.

“It's not easy for you to lower your guard… is it?" Sanguine whispered in his ear as the Bosmer woman began to work his length with her delicate fingers. “How long has it been?”

Daemon remained quiet, but that didn’t stop his thoughts from moving to the last time he had been truly at ease. 

The resulting dagger slash had nearly cost him his nose. He had been lucky to find a good healer that, over a period of weeks, had reduced the injury to an ugly scar.

A hand carded through his hair. Blackened nails scraping against his scalp in an almost affectionate manner. It calmed him… somehow, though not enough to ease his harsh glare at the opposite wall. 

The Daedra chuckled with some unheard answer. “A long time, then…” The hand returned to stroke back through his hair before fetching more of his shaving oil to soften his skin.

_ A very long time, _ his thoughts iterated, trapped behind gritted teeth as he tried not to react to the tongue lapping over his slit. To twirl and bob around his flushed cockhead.

Sanguine’s hands had moved to his shoulders to massage and knead aching muscles he didn’t know he had. “Oh, aren’t you stiff…” There was an innuendo hidden in his words, especially as his blackened eyes darted to Daemon’s swollen member, the woman mysteriously missing. “Want me to help with that?”

Daemon’s head rolled back into the Daedra’s chest. “Just keep doing what you are doing. It’ll go away on its own.”

The kneading to the Daemon’s shoulders stopped completely. “Oh blessed, Anu. You would deprive that sweet thing of release?” Sanguine tsked. “No. I _ will _ help you with that.”

“Do-” Fingers jammed between his teeth to cut off his denial of Sanguine’s offer.

“Please ‘do’? Oh, I will. And, you will very much thank me for it.”

He tried to bite down on the fingers, but their flesh was impossibly strong despite the silken texture on his tongue. He glowered instead, earning a grin as the Daedra came around to face him. Daemon could slap the hand away, he could stand and walk away. The man did neither of those things.

Sanguine hummed as he came to perch in Daemon’s lap, his fingers almost content to remain in his mouth. “I can just imagine what that mouth of yours could do…” Sanguine said, pressing Daemon’s tongue flat then pinching it slightly between pointer and middle finger. He toyed with Daemon’s tongue for a few more seconds, watching his face closely as if testing his reactions before retracting them completely.

It felt distinctly like Sanguine was going to finger fuck his throat, but had decided last minute not to.

“No oral fixation… hmmm…?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever had one.”

Sanguine tapped him playfully on the nose, his arms then further stretched to reach over Daemon’s shoulders in a mock embrace. “A shame. I might have to help with that.”

“I thought you were going to help something else first?”

“Who’s to say that I can’t do both?” There was a squeeze to his length. A slick smoothing of pressure up the underside of his cock. At the same time, Sanguine had pressed a thumb against his lips. It sat there, applying a slow pressure, as if trying to encourage him to respond.

Sanguine was an easy fuck - the Daedra made no intention of hiding it - Daemon, on the other hand, was far less so. He kept his mouth closed despite the pressure growing of his top lip against his teeth. Eventually though, with Sanguine inane insistence and natural not about to go away, Daemon obliged the finger, opening his mouth ever so slightly. 

The Daedra’s finger sought out the heat of Daemon’s mouth near immediately.

“Good boy,” encouraged Sanguine as he continued to skillfully pump Daemon’s member, to thumb his cockhead and spread the beading precum back down his shaft.

Daemon's teeth sinking uselessly into Sanguine's finger had to answer for him as his own fingers curled even tighter around the chair's arms. The creak of wood had the Daedra grinning wider.

Only mortal, the stimulation eventually proved to be too much. He spent himself and the Daedra continued to milk him through what remained of his climax, caring little about the mess pooling up between their heated bodies.

His chest continued to heave from his orgasm, and Sanguine was sitting happily on his lap, licking his spend from delicate fingers like some perverted, contented cat.

"Off," Daemon said with the barest hint of a flush touching his cheeks. He made the mistake of making direct eye contact, and Sanguine took a purposely slow lick along the inside of his middle finger to eventually suck down the whole finger. His lips pulled back with a pop, leaving a lingering invitation as he actually obliged Daemon's request.

“We should do this again, Babe,” the Daedra said, standing. “That was rather delightful.”

Daemon rose similarly to wipe off his lap. He poured some water onto a cloth and began to work. “I’d rather not.”

“Oh, nonsense. Here. For you.” Sanguine held out his hand, palm to the sky. In his once empty grip, a single rose formed then grew substantially. It formed a staff, rigid and sturdy. “A gift for my new champion.”

The man refused to take it.

Frowning, Sanguine disappeared the staff. “I’ll hold on to it then. You might change your mind.”

“Doubt it.”

Sanguine ignored his comment completely. “Until next time, Babe.”

In a flourish of rose petals, the Daedra vanished, leaving Daemon with yet another thing to clean up. He sighed and continued working on his shirt and pants, hoping to get the fabric clean before a stain set in.

****

Sanguine hadn’t forgotten about him again as he had hoped. If anything, the Daedra was almost vibrating with excitement as the man's eyes swept the candles and flower petals trailing towards the impossibly large bed. 

Daemon reached for the doorknob of the inn’s room behind him and found it suddenly missing. A misty grove lay in its place instead.

He wasn’t in the Moorside Inn anymore, but it didn’t mean he’d immediately play the Daedra’s game. 

Daemon started walking. Away from the candles, the flower petals, and the naked form of Sanguine sprawled seductively across the crimson sheets.

“Hey now!” came a call, and Daemon only walked faster.

He didn’t get far, somehow ending up back where he had started, somehow turning around in the heavy fog that surrounded the clearing.

“Miss me?”

“No.” He was tired and not as young as he used to be. The idea of a late-night romp through the hay held little appeal against the thought of a warm bed. For all that it was worth, he glared at the Daedra, wanting nothing more than to get some sleep.

“I think you did.”

“I really didn’t…”

“What would it take for you to relax and finally enjoy yourself. Stop denying yourself this, Babe.”

Daemon decidedly dropped his pack beside him and mechanically laid out his bedroll. It bothered him slightly that he’d be wasting the coin he spent on the room, but he supposed the bed the Daedra was offering wasn’t even the bed he had rented. 

The ground it was. Again. And, just when he had returned to town too.

It wasn’t until he laid down, that Sanguine realized that Daemon was seriously not about to join him. With a sigh of disbelief, Daemon heard the Daedra sit up.

“You are incorrigible.”

Daemon didn’t bother opening his eyes. “I could say the same.”

A huff. An awkward fidget and the settling of sheets. “How?” The Daedra seemed almost upset. “No mortal can resist my allure. My scent.”

“Scent?” If Sanguine was used to tempting stubborn mortals with aromatic aphrodisiacs, then it would explain a few things. Daemon didn’t have a sense of smell. Never had.

The Daedra stopped fidgeting, his overdramatization being ignored anyway. “You haven’t noticed?!” Sanguine sounded downright incredulous.

As if ushered, the mist staying to the edges of the clearing crept closer. Smoky tendrils washed over Daemon’s body to curl particularly around his nostrils.

The man batted it away, much to Sanguine’s apparent bereavement. 

“Impossible!” proclaimed the Daedra, bouncing from the mattress and stomping to Daemon’s side with quick, short strides.

“What are you?!” exclaimed Daemon as Sanguine hauled him up by the waist and practically threw him onto the bed.

Sanguine snaked around him, to pull him flat against the Daedra’s chest. His back pressed against something very hot, and very solid.

“Since regular enticement doesn’t seem to work with you, I’m holding you until you ask me to fuck you.”

“I’m not going to ask you.”

“Ask me what?” Sanguine questioned coyly.

Daemon was careful with his response, especially as hands roamed his front and slinked under his shirt to run over his chest. He tested his response in his mind, and finding a loophole the Daedra could possibly exploit, changed it with another. “Nothing.”

Frustrated with his continued abstinence, the Daedra nuzzled into the back of his head. Sanguine was pouting, and Daemon couldn’t help thinking it made the Daedra at least a little cute. “Then I’m going to have to hold you.”

Too tired to continue bothering with the Daedra’s antics, he just lay there. “Do as you please…” His eyes closed, and for the first time in a long while, he dreamed of a blissful nothing.

****

Daemon wasn’t a complete stranger to being behind bars. It wasn’t as if he was completely innocent about some of the contracts he took on. So, when a simple job of escorting some supposed damsel across the land turned into being the scapegoat for the string of murders, he wasn’t surprised to find himself shackled and put into the most convenient holding cell.

He was lucky enough to have known some of the guards on duty from his time in the Imperial army, and his case got shifted from murderer to accessory. A quick hanging to some indeterminate fate as they tried to figure out what to do with him.

A month had passed, when he got his first… visitor. 

“Chains… Kinky. So, this was where you were hiding.” The Daedra was, surprisingly, wearing clothes this time around, though barely. The loose fabric barely covered one shoulder, let alone the other. “The tavern was beginning to feel a little lonesome without you around.”

“Sanguine,” he couldn’t help greeting. Unused to speech, his voice cracked in several places.

“Sam,” Sanguine corrected. “I feel like we’ve known each other far too long to stick to formalities…” The Daedra’s face scrunched up as he tried to recall some distant thought. “You know, Babe. I’ve never actually got your name.”

“I’ve never given it.”

Sanguine frowned, but a smirk quickly replaced it. “Doesn’t matter. They wrote your name down in the registry.” In a poof of rose petals, a scroll suddenly appeared in his hands. “Now let's see… ‘Thievery’... No… ‘Arson’... Nope… Ah. Here we go. ‘Party Pooping’ one ‘Daemon Faver’.”

“It doesn’t say that.”

“No, but it is your name. Isn’t it… Dae?” The Daedra was oddly smug with himself.

“No.”

The grin faltered slightly as the Daedra quickly scanned the parchment again. His nose crinkled as he checked the cell number against what was written. A few seconds later and the grin returned, the parchment disappeared with a snap. “‘Daemon Faver’... ‘Smart Ass’.”

Daemon shrugged. It was the most entertainment he had gotten in the last few weeks.

“You must be positively bored all cooped up in there.” Sanguine- Sam walked his finger up one of the iron bars as he leaned up against Daemon’s cell. “I’m sure I can think of something to pass the time.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Always so resistant, aren’t you? It’s like you’re afraid I’m going to bite.”

“And you aren’t?”

“Jab, after jab. You wound me, Babe.” The Daedra leaned even closer, the bars doing nothing to keep him out. Sam stopped when he drew near Daemon’s ear. “But, you’re absolutely right.” 

Daemon moved as Sam’s teeth clicked closed around where his ear had been moments earlier. He shot a glare at the Daedra for getting too far into his personal space.

Sam didn’t appear offended, just amused. He inspected the chain attached to Daemon’s ankle, the Daedra’s tattoos flaring slightly to the clink of metal. “And, I finally get a reaction from you. Who would have thought? Lil Daemon has a thing for chains.”

Daemon scoffed, neither denying or admitting to whatever conclusion Sam had drawn from the air.

Sam tilted his head to the side his brow dipping slightly with a renewed focus. He tugged on the chain again, this time his tattoos regaining their dull, emberous glow. A mixture of despair and bewilderment flicked across his confident features. His lips parted, then closed tightly. It was easy to tell he was looking for some sort of explanation but was far too proud to ask just exactly what ‘lil Daemon’s' thing was.

Daemon wasn’t going to offer that information freely even if the Daedra had asked. "Something the matter?"

Sam's nose wrinkled, the behavior reminding Daemon of a cat's twitching tail when it was irritated about something. "Not at all." The nose wrinkling stopped as the Daedra's face smoothed out. The confident grin returned, but Daemon could tell it didn't have the same sureness as before. "If Little Dae isn't going to enjoy this, I might at least get some entertainment out of this…"

"And, if I say 'no'? What if I shout for the guards?"

"I don't think you will."

"Oh? I'd like to know where this confidence is coming from."

A hand tilted Daemon's chin back. A thumb stroked affectionately over his bottom lip, then moved to slide across his cheek. "I'm sure you would."

Since Daemon didn't immediately shake off the hand and offending fingers, Sam leaned in closer. The Daedra looked like he was going to kiss him.

"Hey! What's with the noise!?" There came a clang against the bars, and it drew Daemon's eyes off the Daedra for a brief second. A brief second that was apparently long enough for Sam to shift into the guise of a Thalmor warden.

"I was interrogating our prisoner," Sam lied smoothly.

The actual guard raised a brow. "We're supposed to let that one rot…"

Sam's eyes sweep back over Daemon. "A shame don't you think?" A gleam had entered his mischievous eyes as he returned them to the guard. 

A haze spread from Daemon's prison cell, one that Daemon didn't notice until it was crawling in thick wispy ropes towards the guard. The guard stumbled back, only to stop as those ropes twined around his legs and crept swiftly to his pointed nose. His sharp gaze melted behind a fog of want and desire.

"I suppose…" the guard agreed dumbly. His next few steps were unsteady, as if he was not fully present in his own body. "An interrogation can't hurt…"

"A very thorough interrogation," Sam agreed, sclera wiping black as invisible tattoos glowed through his disguise.

Daemon continued his silence. He was thinking. Planning. He didn't like the idea of an 'interrogation', if that was what it was, especially with Sam involved.

“Come on, Dae. Won’t you try and be more enticing?”

Fingers stroked up Daemon’s sides, lifting the rough linen prisoner rags he had been spared when his equipment had been confiscated. Those same fingers found a nipple and gave it a slight twist, just enough to elicit a small hiss and a glare towards the fingers' owner.

Sam only grinned wider, his attention mainly on the guard who was trying to work the keyring on his belt free. The guard fumbled several times, his fingers clumsy with anticipation, as he worked the key into the lock. 

Daemon’s eyes flicked to the Daedra, then to the entranced guard. 

"Work with me on this, Babe. You won't be sorry." The smirk confirmed the Daedra's ploy.

"I already am…" Daemon grumbled as he forced himself to fall passive to Sam's touch. 

Sam decided to take full advantage of Daemon's sudden complacency. As one hand continued pinching and tweaking his nipple, another had slipped beneath the hem of his pants. "My word…" the Daedra said with a fake gasp. "That is some sword you have smuggled in. What other contraband might you have?" 

Daemon was cupped and fondled before the guard. His balls rolled between skillful fingers, encouraging moans from between tight teeth.

"There was no mention that you were a jewel thief…"

Daemon rolled his eyes at that one, though the guard didn't seem to notice or care as he loosened his trousers.

Sam took his cue to retreat slightly, leaving just Daemon and the guard to whatever came next.

Daemon saw his opportunity and kicked out. His free foot caught the guard in the lower abdomen and knocked the high-elf back a foot. He rose, somehow much to Sam's personal enjoyment, and followed his previous kick with a well-aimed punch to the sternum. 

The guard crumpled to his knees, gasping and choking as the wind was punched from his lungs.

Having little pity for his would-be 'lover', Daemon quickly rifled through the elf's pockets and snatched up the key. He undid the shackle on his ankle and locked the prison cell behind him on his exit.

When he cast one final glare at the parties- party inside, he realized Sam had disappeared.

Daemon slipped through the rest of the prison with surprising ease. Every guard and prisoner was far more interested in each other than they were with his impromptu prison break. 

"You're welcome," came a cheeky whisper as he flung open the front doors and walked out.

****

The prison remained in an uproar for weeks following Sanguine's intervention. The city had to send for Vigilants of Stendarr in hopes of quelling the Daedric influence. 

Unfortunately, to no avail.

Somehow Daemon managed to remain clear of the mass hysteria that ensued in the following hours… days. He holed up at an inn a good half day's walk, but that didn't seem to hinder the following gossip.

Word on the breeze was: a local mage set off the whole debacle and was later imprisoned within the same prison that was under a feuge of lust. People were surprisingly outraged with the decision, instead insisting that the prison should be opened to all to join in the revelry. The local constabulary had more than a few objections to doing so - for obvious reasons.

He took a swig of his beer, munching absentmindedly on a slice of bread and some cheese.

"Babe. Why are you here and not at the party?"

Daemon didn't look at the disguised Daedra who joined him.

"The only way you'll get me into one of your orgies, is if I'm dragged into one of your orgies."

"That sounds like a challenge."

The man took another sip. Smaller now that he wanted to avoid getting drunk with a certain Prince of Debauchery around. "It's a veiled 'no'."

"For now…" Sam stretched out beside him, setting his own full mug on the bartop. "How about you drink with me then?"

"Fine. But, I'm only drinking out of my mug."

“Such little trust.” Sam eyed the tankard before summoning his own. "Very well."


	2. A Daedra's Concern *NEW*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp... I didn't see myself coming back to this... To that one person subscribed to this story, you were right to. XD
> 
> Guess I had more to share with Daemon and Sam.
> 
> Anyway, have this additional chapter, I have one other one that I still am working through. Hopefully, I can get it up soon.

Daemon had somehow made a mistake by sitting at an abandoned table, this time far from the crowded bar. 

He drank lightly from the tankard the barmaid set in front of him and stirred his plate of fried potatoes and ground meat with a fork.

"Are you sure no one can see us?" asked a nervous voice from a woman leaning against the table. Daemon knew that no one had been at the table moments earlier.

"I'm sure," chuckled an all too familiar voice. 

Daemon cast a glance up at the Breton, Sam - or as he found out later through some research on his own, the one, and fortunately only, Daedric Prince Sanguine.

The Daedra locked eyes with Daemon. "This concealment spell will last for _ hours. _No one will know…" Sanguine leaned into the woman's neck to suckle her earlobe. His hand worked its way into the top of her dress, seemingly unhindered by the many knots the front of the bodice had been tied with.

Sighing, Daemon felt that he should say something before Sanguine embarrassed her in front of an audience.

“Ex-” His throat closed involuntarily, effectively silencing him. He tried again, and again his voice was stopped. Daemon frowned at the Daedra who smiled innocently behind the woman’s blond curls.

"I think he just saw us…" the woman whispered as she bit her lip against the Daedra kneading her breast in his palm.

"Nonsense," falsely assured Sam. "He was trying to catch eyes with the waitress. His mug is empty."

Hearing this, Daemon looked to his mug. What had been nearly full was indeed empty. 

As if waiting on some cue, a barmaid, different than the one that had initially served him, arrived at his side. "Lemme top tha' up fer ya."

He tried to ask the waitress if she could see the others at the table with him, but all that came out was a strangled, "Thanks."

Sanguine grinned all the harder for Daemon's struggles as he stripped the poor oblivious woman bit-by-bit. "See. What did I tell you?"

The blond blushed. "Still…"

"Still?"

"He's eating. Don't you… Don't you think we're being a bit rude?" She was starting to get a bit breathy, her skin gaining a light dusting of red everywhere.

_ Intoxicated, most likely. And considering they were in a bar... _

"Oh, where are my manners?" Sanguine picked up the woman and sat her, bare-assed on the table.

She shrieked, though oddly it sounded pleased. "Oh, you beast!" giggled the woman.

It was evident now that Daemon was the sole audience for this public display. No-one turned in their seats, no one looked up from their drinks as the woman was splayed naked across the table, her heat dripping onto the wood.

Sanguine took the unspoken invitation of the woman's open legs and slotted himself in between them. "Aren't you a jewel." He worked his finger down her belly and plyed into her with index and middle finger. 

She giggled some more as she leaned into the Daedra's ministrations, her legs tightening around the Daedra's digits. 

"Ah. I can't move if you're so tight," he teased. With his free hand he helped her onto her back, just barely missing knocking into Daemon's meal.

"Oopsie." She giggled again and some thought suddenly struck her. "Saaam. Could I try touching?"

"Him?" Again the Daedra purposefully made eye contact, eyes flashing inhumanely red as he did so. "I don't see why not. Were you hoping to get him to join us?"

The woman worried her plush red lip between her teeth. "But, if he can't see us… Don't you think that could be rather exciting?"

Daemon stood with a scrap of his chair and left.

"I think you scared him away, Darling."

She laughed some sort of drunk agreement as the Daedra began pounding into the woman, her moans still echoing loudly even as he left through the front door after paying his tab.

A few steps down the tavern’s path, Daemon just about slammed into a wall of copper-toned muscle and gaudy red tattoos. He stopped before he did.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Babe," said the Daedra.

"Who's jealous?" Daemon answered plainly, trying to step around Sam blocking his path. "Didn't you leave someone behind?"

The Daedra wasn't thrilled with his emotionless answer, nor of Daemon trying to get away from him. Sanguine disappeared and reappeared in a swirl of red shadows, this time appearing even closer. 

"Did you even enjoy the show?"

"Was that what that was?"

Sanguine's nose wrinkled up, then settled. With arms stretching above his head, he took a step back. "You are impossible."

Daemon rolled his eyes and started moving again. 

He had managed to make it a handful of steps before that red shadow chased after him again, Sanguine re-manifesting just a touch too close. The Daedra attempted to touch Daemon's nose with an exaggerated motion of his index finger.

This time, it was Daemon's turn to take half a step back.

Somehow surprised with Daemon's sudden reaction, the Daedra said, "Not the nose, huh?"

Daemon didn't bother with a response. His involuntary glare was probably answer enough already. Instead, he masked what he could of it with indifference and batted Sam's hand away.

"Oh, don't pout Babe. It doesn't suit you. Brooding maybe, but not pouting."

Daemon continued to ignore him, evidently not to the Daedra's approval.

"You're letting the meal go cold…"

"My meal, or… _ yours," _ Daemon said with a particular level of distaste.

The Daedra grinned, white fangs flashing in the pale moonlight. "So, you did think she was a snack."

"I said nothing of the sort," offered Daemon irritably. He continued walking, grateful for once he was sleeping outside the city walls. The Daedra's influence on the world tended to be restricted to within the walls of an inn or tavern or on those already intoxicated. Though it remained to be seen if this restriction was due to preference or otherwise.

Sanguine didn't seem to think the same. "Where are you going, Babe?"

"To get some sleep."

"Sleep?!" The Daedra bounced to be in front of him again, slinging unwanted arms around his neck to try and trap him. "Dae. The night is still young. There is still so much to do."

Beyond bracing himself against the Daedra's increasing weight on his front, Daemon didn't move. "Get off."

"On you?" Sanguine ground up against him, a leg sliding up his side. "Certainly…" The Daedra didn't hesitate to further his desires. His split tongue flicked out and licked along Demon's cheek.

Daemon flinched, especially when that hot tongue touched the edge of his scar. He reactively shoved the Daedra, finding Sanguine allowing himself to be pushed away. With a growl, Daemon suggested, "Why don't you go back to your whore? I'm sure she'll want your company."

This time, Sanguine didn't try anything more. With dimming tattoos, his shape dissolved back to red and black shadows. It whisked away, back in the direction of the inn, leaving Daemon alone.

He continued to where he had made camp outside the city walls, hoping that the khajiits he had entrusted it with, had left it unmolested.

****

Daemon's fingers tightened around the strap of his rucksack. He was soaked from a flash downpour that continued into a light drizzle and was in no mood to entertain a certain Daedric Prince of Debauchery.

"Dae. You look like a drowned skeever. Why don't you come in and dry off?"

The Imperial closed his eyes and kept walking, worn boots sloshing with every step.

"Babe, you're going to run into something like that."

That may be so, but it wasn't going to be Sanguine. The Amulet of Mara around his neck, and hidden by his faded-green scarf, would ensure that.

Daemon heard a sharp crack and a hiss. When he finally cast his honey-gold eyes in the direction of the Daedra, Sanguine was cradling his hand looking distinctly betrayed.

The look of betrayal washed quickly into a falsely smug grin, and Sanguine released his protective hold on his hand. He spread his arms wide, trying to appear inviting. "Babe. You wound me so. An Amulet of Mara? We both know you aren't one to settle down…"

"A small burden to pay if I don't have to deal with you."

"Was it because I tried to touch your nose? I did apologize."

"No, you didn't."

"Ah, but it was the nose…"

Daemon didn't want to answer Sanguine, and he most assuredly didn't want to enter the crimson-tarped tent that seemed to be following his every step.

"Babe. My darling light. The _ Dae _to my night. Would you please get out of this miserable rain?" Sanguine was making it sound like he had been drenched and miserable for the last few hours, trekking across rock and expansive prairie. In reality, not a drop landed on the Daedra.

"If you see shelter, let me know…" was all Daemon said in response.

He could see Sanguine holding back a comment, restraining himself from pointing out the very obvious red tent which Daemon was certain now was keeping step with him.

"You put in an awful lot of work bothering me for someone who promotes procrastination…"

"In others! Dae, you are making a fool of me. How can I face the other princes if my own champion doesn't indulge himself? Not even a little."

Daemon splashed through a particularly deep puddle, the water sloshing up past the top of his boot as he fell. He glared at the innocuous body of water and pulled himself out. Mud and weeds clung to the saturated leather. He thought of his dwindling coffers and how much it would cost to replace his now thoroughly ruined boots. "Not my problem…"

"Not your- Babe. As your master, it is very much your problem."

"I don't remember pledging anything to you…"

That finally got under the Daedra's skin. 

A rippling red-black shadow shot up in front of Daemon. The man stopped, rather unimpressed with Sanguine standing in front of him. He noted that the tent stopped as well.

"Do you not remember this?" Sanguine summoned his rosen staff to his hand, its brilliant ruby petals picking up even the barest sunlight filtering through the persistent clouds that were starting to grow thicker again.

"Oh, I remember it. I just don't remember accepting it."

Daemon was pretty sure the Daedra was tempted to smack him upside the head with the stick but refrained from doing so. "Your acceptance has hardly anything to do with whether you are my champion. I have picked you, and therefore you are."

"Great. Then unpick me, and go find someone who actually wants to be a plaything. Now, if you excuse me, I have a few more miles to walk, preferably without you."

Sanguine pressed the staff against Daemon's chest, its head sparking and sputtering with the proximity to the Amulet of Mara. With a bit more effort, Sanguine forced Daemon back a step. "Don't think for a second that, that amulet could save you if I got serious, Daemon."

Daemon was no fool. He could realize when he had crossed some sort of boundary. He also was very aware of just how powerful a Daedric Prince could be regardless of Sanguine general behavior otherwise. Daemon knew all of this, yet he too was in a rather bad mood. "Then, go on. Smite me or whatever it is you do when things don't go your way." He kept his eyes level with the Daedra before he slapped away the rose-shaped thing. "Otherwise, I have somewhere I need to be."

On a snap of fingers, a portal opened up below him. Daemon knew this not because he should have been falling, but by the constant crackling of light at his feet separating him from whatever fate law in store for him beyond the yawning void that had appeared beneath him.

"Seems like the amulet works just fine," Daemon said.

Sanguine was shocked at the sight of Daemon remaining suspended and unhindered by the Daedra's portal. "You had it blessed?!" asked the Daedra incredulously, his glowing tattoos almost extinguishing themselves with his growing rage.

"Just in case it helped," Daemon answered. He had made it a few yards, not that it mattered when Sanguine appeared beside him again in mere seconds. "Looks like it did."

"Of all the-" Sanguine lost the ability to speak for a moment as his voice became an indecipherable series of noises and ancient dialogues not known to mortal tongue.

Ignoring the Daedra's outburst, Daemon continued walking.

The red-black shadow chased after him. The Daedra's earlier fit, forgotten. Sanguine refused to leave Daemon alone, choosing instead to lounge in the air, untouched by the elements, and mere inches in front of Daemon's face. Crotch to the man's eye-level. The view wasn't any sort of improvement to the surrounding greys and browns, and it blocked his line of sight to anything that actually might be a threat. 

The man was getting severely tired of the Daedra's antics. "Go fu-" Daemon fell. The wet rocks he had been navigating, had proved more treacherous to his distracted self than he had anticipated, and the rock he had been standing on, collapsed, taking Daemon with it.

It was with luck that he had managed to grab the cliff's edge that had not yet crumbled away in the mud.

"What was that, Dae?" Sanguine peered over the rock edge down at him. It didn't however, seem that the Daedra had anticipated the man's fall, but Sanguine was enjoying it anyway.

Daemon continued to cling to the wet rock and mud, his feet had yet to find a decent hold. The lack of safety did nothing to quench his flames of irritation. "I said, you can fuck off, Sam. That is what you're good at after all."

"Are you sure you don't need some help first?" Sanguine was all but draping himself over the edge, laying on his back as if a certain doom didn't lie below.

"Yes." 

"Babe, the one time you say 'yes' to me, its to deny me. How cruel you can be."

"That's too ba-" Daemon's grip was slipping, and the gorge beneath him had a very unforgiving rock base. A bare trickle of the torrent that had carved the rock eons earlier. He slipped back a few inches.

"Dae…" Sanguine's tone had lost all joviality.

Daemon slipped a little further and his heart lurched up into his throat.

"Dae!" Sanguine was kneeling above him in the rain, water finally beginning to touch the otherwise untouchable being.

"You almost sounded concerned!" Daemon yelled over the rising storm when he had a more stable handhold, yet not one that he could use to climb higher. If Daemon could focus beyond his heart pounding in his ears, and the constant patter of rain battering his cold, tired body, he would have noticed that the crimson painting the tips of his ears was not from anger, but some other emotion worming its way free from the shackles of his heart. But, he couldn't, nor would he accept such a thing happening. Not again. He wasn't allowed to trust again. The scar across his nose was proof of what could happen. "Is there seriously nothing else you could be doing right now?! I'm sure there's some strumpet just spreading their legs already and moaning your name!"

"Don't you tempt me right now, Babe! I will leave you, you know!"

"Thank the Gods! So, why don't you?!" he hollered back up.

"You stubborn Bastard! Get rid of that amulet and I…" the Daedra's voice trickled off. Lost to the sudden crack of thunder that lit the sky.

"Fuck off, Sa-!" 

Daemon finally couldn't hold on anymore. He was falling. He was going to die.

"Daemon!"

A void crackled around him, but he passed through it. Another portal tried the same to catch him, but it was met with the same result. A third portal materialized, but this time it opened vertically. A copper-toned hand shot through the portal, gold bangles tinkling softly like giggled whispers. Sanguine grabbed Daemon's closest available limb, his leg.

Daemon continued to fall, but with his ankle caught in a death vise, he swung, his back smashing against the surrounding rock walls. He coughed as the wind was punched from his body. His eyes stung as pain shot through his spine.

"Get. Rid. Of. That. Amulet!" Sanguine barked at him. 

Daemon directed his watering eyes up, spotting the Daedra's hand around his ankle. The healthy copper skin was black up to Sanguine's elbow, and like burning wood, the flesh on Sanguine's fingers was turning white and flaking away in pieces of light ash. 

Gone was the friendly visage the Daedra wore. Instead, Sanguine's lips were pulled into a teeth-gritting snarl and his eyes burned completely with the fires of Oblivion. Behind him, a long, slender tail lashed and coiled. Its tip barbed and dangerous. Elongated claws dug fiercely into the leather of Daemon's boot and scored the skin underneath. 

Daemon could feel blood seeping up his leg.

"Get. Rid… Of. The… Amulet," Sanguine repeated, his voice now a deep rumble. The black on his arm had traveled past his elbow and was creeping steadily up to his shoulder. 

The Imperial was almost tempted to oblige the out-of-character act of selflessness. Almost. He wasn't given the opportunity. 

Like brittle stone, Sanguine's hand cracked and splintered, releasing Daemon back into freefall. "No!" roared the Daedra. The sound echoed loudly in Daemon's ears as he plummeted head-first.

In the short seconds Daemon had left, he decided. His hands grabbed scarf and buried amulet, and he tugged both from his throat.

"Sam!" he shouted, letting go of the molded copper amulet and bundled fabric.

The Daedra immediately noticed the sudden lack of magical protection.

This time a portal successfully swallowed Daemon whole, and he swore that the Daedra looked relieved when he vanished through it. 

Daemon's vision blanked for a moment as his insides scrambled. He was nauseous for a few seconds but recovered quickly. Just in time to fall into a warm bath.

Daemon froze. The water was unexpected. His legs and arms dangled awkwardly over the sides of the large tub. He wiped a gloved hand down over his face, discovering his surroundings concealed by red canvas. Everywhere he looked he saw more red, and… a tent flap. 

Sam had dropped him into the tent Daemon had been ignoring from the start. Seeing the single tub, chair, and laid-out bedroll, Daemon was feeling mildly foolish, and his head flopped back against the rim of the tub. While the Imperial had gotten used to expecting rather erotic scenarios, he had evidently forgotten what the Daedra had said rather early to him. 

_ 'Pleasure can be derived from even the tiniest thing…' _

He stood up, water splashing off of his soaked everything. 

_ A bath… would be nice about now… _

Tossing all his soggy possessions into one corner and his ruined armor and underclothes to another, he guiltily slipped back into the water. 

To the shadow hiding amongst the folds of red tarp, he nodded. As vain as Sam was, the Daedra didn't want to reveal himself in his current state. The shadow's tattoos glowed slightly, seemingly mimicking the slow relaxation of Daemon's muscles. He noticed, however, the distinct lack of glowing lines on the shadow's right side and the lack of a right side entirely.

"Thanks, I-"

The shadow's tail tapped the ground, before shrinking and eventually disappearing completely. Sam evidently would rather his form went without the additional appendage. "Shut up and enjoy your water…"

Daemon sighed and leaned back. "Yes, yes… Master."

"Shut up, Dae."

Daemon smirked. "You owe me a new scarf."

"You owe me."

"I severely doubt it."

He still couldn't see the Daedra's face, but from Sanguine's tone, he could just imagine the Daedra's nose scrunching up. "Now, you definitely owe me an orgy."

The Imperial supposed he did, not that he was going to admit that. "Maybe."


	3. The Fall

Rain drove Daemon into a nearby cave for shelter. He had watched the dark clouds roll across the sky and knew better than to stay out in the open when they were finally overhead.

Thunder boomed as a great arc of light dazzled the sky and Daemon breathed deeply with the fresh scent that came with it - not that he could tell what that scent was. He checked his map again in the mouth of the cave, the occasional windblown drop splashing against the tops of his boots.

The good news was that he was on the right track, a few more hours and he’d be where his contact wanted to meet. The bad news was that it didn’t look like the storm was going to pass anytime soon.

Tucking the map away, he sighed and set down his pack. 

Unfortunately, a storm wasn’t the worst that nature apparently had in mind for him. 

In the moments he had closed his eyes, a large skeever had taken the opportunity to pilfer his things. His eyes shot open with the rummaging and he was quick to see the skeever react to his notice. It grabbed his bag by the straps and took off running.

Not about to lose his only worldly possessions, Daemon chased after his disappearing pack.

How the large rodent even got near enough to his pack without him noticing was astonishing. Not to mention the whole being able to carry the heavy bag while managing a fast pace through the cave’s tunnels.

He prayed that his thief didn’t have any ‘help’, though it likely did.

“And here arrives the guest of honor,” announced Sam from on high.

Daemon stopped.

The Daedra seemed quite pleased with himself, bare legs crossed over himself as he lounged back into a large throne draped with fine silks. He was oblivious to the marathon that Daemon had just ran, and was even less concerned with his mildly disheveled state for having done so.

The skeever had all but disappeared when he tried to look for it again and Daemon did not consider that a coincidence. He did, however, catch the pile of writhing bodies at the foot of Sanguine’s throne and made an immediate about-face, only to smack into a curtained wall. Lifting the edge of the red fabric, Daemon found solid stone and not the tunnel opening he had entered through. “Bastard…” he whispered, rubbing at his nose.

“Come join me, Champion.”

“No.” As if to further defy the Daedra, he began tapping at the wall with the butt of his dagger, procured from its sheath on his hip, hoping on some level that there was some way through the apparated wall.

There wasn’t.

“I’m on a job,” he said with a bit of frustration lacing his voice. The storm had been a worse enough distraction. Sanguine was on a whole different level. “Unlike some people, I have to work for a living.”

“As your conscience, you need a break.”

“My conscience can go fuck itself,” Daemon declared without breaking stride. He continued trying the wall, attempting several different enchantment breaks on the stone.

“An idea for later. Join me, Champion. Don’t make me beg.”

“Would you?”

“Not in your lifetime.”

Daemon sucked in air tightly between his teeth with a hiss. He wasn’t going to be getting out anytime soon. He gave up on the wall, but that hardly meant he was going to get any closer to the writhing mass of warm bodies. “I’ll stay here then.”

It was hard to tell the Daedra’s expression from where he stood, but he could tell Sam was pouting.

The Daedra shifted, and the man bouncing in his lap took the hint to leave and join somewhere else. A moment later a snap echoed loudly in the temporarily muted space. 

The man heard the hum faster than he noticed the crimson swirl open up beneath him. Not that either had given him enough time to avoid being swallowed by the portal and landing into Sam’s emptied lap. 

By the shit-eating grin on Sam’s face, Daemon was lucky to still be wearing his gear.

Daemon didn’t say anything as he got back to his feet, his back distinctly wet with what he hoped was only oil lathered up the Daedra’s front.

_ Disgusting… _ went unsaid.

Daemon stood beside the throne, arms crossed over his chest.

The Daedra only smirked at his disinterest. “You look like my bodyguard,” mused Sam as one of the masqueraders took up his cock in her deft hands. He sighed when she began to work on him, his crimson tattoos glowing just that much brighter as he indulged in his hedonism.

Daemon rolled his eyes and shifted a little more away from the moaning crowd. “Better than one of your whores.”

Sam laughed. “Oh, I could only wish that’s what you were.”

“I’m sure you would love that.”

Humming thoughtfully, the Daedra leaned back in his throne as another masquerader rose from the milling mass to kiss him. Sam took the taste of the masked woman, tongue delving deep and exploring thoroughly.

Daemon ran a hand through his short hair to try and ignore it. His gaze drifted to the curtained wall, to the sealed exit that supposedly would return once this little fuck-party was over.

* * *

Sanguine was no fool. He could tell his champion was uninterested in his soiree. The bitter taste of the man’s discipline was tainting the far sweeter tang of pleasure that was rolling thick in the air.

He frowned, subtly, not enough that anyone could tell at first glance. With a gesture, he summoned forth those that were deep in his thrall. Those that would follow his whims without anything more than a twitch of his finger - something Daemon was almost infuriatingly immune to.

Daemon was caught by up under the arms by one of the larger of Sam’s masqueraders that had snuck up behind him and another two had grabbed a hold of his legs.

“Sam!” he yelled, especially as hands worked to remove his leather armor. In the ensuing struggle, he had already lost one of his gauntlets.

The Daedra wasn’t about to intervene. “I’ve decided that you are wearing far too much for what’s considered acceptable dress-code.”

“Dress-code?! You are the exact opposite of a dress-code!”

“I’m hearing a whole lot of complaining over there…”

Daemon’s leathers were gradually peeled from his resisting body. “I’ll show you who’s gonna be complaining in a couple of seconds, you Bastard!”

* * *

Unable to make good on his threat, Daemon was forcibly relieved of everything he owned that had been on his person - missing bag notwithstanding. “Dammit…” Daemon wasn’t happy. He wasn’t very happy at all. 

Sam, however, was very happy; with the widest grin Daemon had ever seen on the Daedra’s smug face. “Who’s supposed to be ‘complaining’?”

The Imperial groaned into his hands. “You were just lucky I don’t hit women…”

The Daedra chuckled. “Oh, there are a few that would just love you if you did.”

Growling, Daemon resumed his post by the side of the throne. He wasn’t about to be conned into somehow ending up in the swarm of sweaty bodies below, despite how the group seemed to be moving closer. “I don’t hit women.”

“Aren’t you the gentleman.”

“Fucker…”

“Oh, I intend to be.”

Daemon raised a cautious brow. There was something he caught in the Daedra’s tone that he would rather not be a part of.

Sam only laughed at his wary behavior, using a finger to beckon him closer.

Hesitantly, Daemon humored the Daedra. He bent low, careful to not end up in a position that could be easily toppled.

Not that seemed to matter to Sam.

An arm wrapped around his neck to pull Daemon down even closer and the Daedra pressed a kiss to his lips. "You said that you would have to be dragged into one of my orgies. How about we make good on that…?" Shortly afterward, a tingle traveled from lips to the tips of his toes and every set of eyes in the room turned to Daemon.

Unwillingly, he was dragged into the throng of bodies, each mashing up against him, each desperate for whatever Sam had cast on him.

“You damnable, Asshole!” Daemon managed right before a generous-sized tit found his mouth. 

The owner of said tit wrapped her arms around his head, locking him against her chest as someone else yanked him to their lap… his furred lap. The cat’s cock pressed hotly against his lower back, working quickly down towards the puckered ring of flesh. A separate individual - again female judging by the weight of them - settled into his lap, quick to grab his cock and massage it to a resistant hardness. His hands were grabbed and fought over, the decided victors shoving his fingers into several dripping orefaces - not that he could see as a leather blindfold was quickly tied across his hawkish eyes. 

That was when his length was sheathed. A quick motion taking him fully to the hilt. Tight. Warm.

The moan that tried desperately to work itself free from the confines of his throat, was muted behind the body of pliable flesh stuffed into his mouth. The rumbles of his noise had the woman grinding up against his side.

“You’re a natural,” teased Sam.

_ I will kill you, Sam! _he thought bitterly, though it was hard to keep the thought for long as he was clumsily speared, the Khajit finding his target eventually. 

The beastman’s cock swelled inside him, pushing up against his innards in ways that a human cock wouldn’t. Daemon’s hips were rocked forward and back shortly afterward as the woman riding him and the Khajiit found some sort of rhythm to agree on for fucking him.

His heart leapt as a collar was fastened around his throat, tight enough to dig shallowly into his skin when he was moved. Fingers curled around the leather, yanking his lips from the woman’s breast, and to the aggressive mouth of yet another of Sam’s revelers. The tongue pushed into his mouth, the thick, forked muscle licking up against the inside of his cheeks, against the roof of his mouth. He bit the tongue as it teased the back of his throat, earning a sharp inhale on scaled lips.

Daemon was jerked away from the Argonian, the clink of chain holding his head back and throat bared. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing painfully against the band tight on his neck.

“Careful dears.” Sam’s voice rang over the scandalous murmur. “He’s so regretfully mortal.”

Sam earned a few chuckles from within the crowd; chuckles, he supposed, that came from the Daedra he knew would be within the clamor.

A ring of metal was wedged into his mouth, to lock his jaw open as its straps were tied behind his head… 

* * *

Something curled possessively inside of Sanguine as he watched the revelry unfold before him. The form of his reluctant champion bent backward and held there by a finely tuned combination of leather and fine silver chain. Lean muscles pulled taut, resistant to his bindings, so contradictory to the scent of want radiating and mixing like a delightful garnish to everything else.

Sanguine’s form shifted. Long black hair pulling back to a short, sandy brown. Black sclera faded to white as honey-colored irises replaced his glowing red. He admired the musculature of his champion anew as he stretched and flexed slender, battle-calloused fingers. Fingers that were so delicately crafted they would have been far better off on an artist than on the mercenary. With a shuddering breath, the reconstructed heart in Sanguine’s chest beat wildly, nerves connecting to the object of his mimicry.

He wondered if his champion knew, could understand the inexplicable intrigue he was to Sanguine. To feel the Imperial’s carefully crafted pleasure as if the first time, every time.

Sanguine breathed deep with lungs not his own, feeling the gentle stretch of the Khajiit's knot tugging against his hole, the red-haired strumpet working his generous cock raw with her velvet heat, her natural slick dripping hot down his thighs. He closed his eyes enjoying the stretch of his lips around the wet ring in his mouth, a needy cock working past his tongue and teeth to fuck his throat hoarse. Desperate hands clawed at his chest as fingers pinched and teased his nipples. His wrists were held captive in the hands of many as his fingers were licked and lavished with kisses from two very different types of lips.

The Daedric Prince was so drunk on his champion that it took him longer than he would have liked to register the copper tang tainting the air, the sudden sting of iron in his side. His eyes flared black as his soul instinctively retreated from the fresh panic, to dawn the realization that the pain hadn’t truly been his, that there hadn’t been any sort of pleasure derived from it. That the pain had illicited the exact opposite reaction from his champion.

He threw off the two mortals that had climbed into his lap to summon his staff as he rose to his feet. He stamped the butt of the rose-shaped thing against the stone steps conjuring an armor-clad Dremora. 

Bound to Sanguine’s will, the Dremora rushed through the crowd, dispersing those that were too drunk on lust to move out of the way fast enough.

But, there hadn’t even been a need for Sanguine to interfere. 

By the time his conjured Dremora had made it to his champion’s side, the intruder had been subdued, the offending blade set tight against the Dunmer’s throat.

* * *

Trying hard to keep the body pinned beneath him without aggravating his wound too much, Daemon felt rather exposed, his ears having to focus hard for any odd sound as his sight remained sealed. 

Fast steps turned to slow steps, to no steps at all. His grip tightened, cutting slightly into the throat of his attacker.

Muzzled as he was, Daemon had no way to prompt the individual approaching, so he waited, nerves tense with honed instincts.

His waiting was met with the slow applause of a single pair of hands.

“Bravo, Champion. You look just gorgeous.”

Daemon was forced to silence, his hands more focused on keeping his attacker prone than on trying to remove the steel ring between his teeth.

“But, Babe. I really could do without you bleeding everywhere. This isn’t that sort of party.” Daemon almost missed the trailing, “Not yet, anyway.”

There was a sudden and collective silence, the body beneath him, vanished. Daemon fell forward, his arms catching himself on a mattress of sorts, flower petals crushing beneath his palms. He hissed, or tried to with the gag, as the motion jarred his injury. His hand pressed tightly against the wound, hot blood seeping between his fingers.

If he could swear, he would. He didn’t need his eyes to know how bad the injury was. Daemon had easily his fair share of stab wounds. His only saving grace was that it didn’t seem to have punctured anything vital.

"Let me see," urged Sam. Sam all but had to pry Daemon's hand away. "Oh, yup. That is bleeding. Here." 

The ring was easily tugged from his mouth. 

"Drink this."

Something thick and syrupy was put to his lips before he had the time to ask what exactly the Daedra wanted him to drink. It was disgustingly sweet, and clung to the walls of his mouth, to his throat.

"That's it…" Sam encouraged.

The pain eased from Daemon's side. "Do I really want to know what this is?" he asked, momentarily shoving Sam's… arm away.

"Probably not. Shut up and drink."

The… whatever was shoved back to Daemon's lips. Daemon remained hesitant, but when his injury started aching again, his lips sealed around it and he sucked.

"F-f-fuck Dae…" the Daedra gasped, as Daemon's head was pulled closer.

The following moan had Daemon pulling away again. "If that's your dick…" The shape wasn't right, but the noises were convincing enough.

"It's not," replied Sam sounded a mix of breathy and disappointed that Daemon had stopped.

Not at all assured, Daemon slipped a thumb under his blindfold and lifted. It wasn't a dick, or anything Daemon thought would be too weird. A glass bottle, shaped similarly to a regular potions bottle. The crimson liquid hardly looked any different from any other healing potion he drank in the past. It hardly explained Sam's… noises. 

He glowered, eyebrows knitting together. The Daedra had been messing with him.

"Disappointed?" grinned Sam. "I could certainly still oblige you…"

Snatching the bottle from Sam's hands, Daemon pushed on the Daedra's chest to create some space between them. "I'll pass." He drank the last few draughts, and let the potion heal him the rest of the way.

A heat eventually replaced the last of the pain in his side, one that had coiled sluggishly through his body to settle at his groin. 

Daemon stared at his cock, the thing errant in its sudden interest. His grip tightened around the bottle in his hand. He had been so careful to not accept food or drink… His eyes danced to the smirking Daedra and he sighed.

_Fine... _he thought. He would rather not continue to have a life-debt to the Daedra.

* * *

“Just fuck me already,” The man’s words were so monotone that Sanguine almost missed the request. 

He blinked, his jaw hanging loose slightly. “I thought I heard you say…” He didn’t want to get his hopes too high.

_ Sanguine didn't think the aphrodisiac he had added to the healing potion had worked that well... _

“You did,” Daemon affirmed. “I want you,” he jabbed at Sanguine’s chest with a finger, “to fuck me.”

Sanguine’s tattoos start pulsing, their glow rippling from where his champion was touching him. He could feel his lips curl into a smile. “Oh, Babe. I think you just made me cum.”

The man couldn’t help looking down.

He wouldn’t be disappointed. Sanguine was good and hard. His cock eager and waiting for the long sought after treat. He may have tricked said treat, but the man seemed more or less irritatingly still in some control of his facilities.

Sanguine's tongue licked over his upper lip. _ What would it take to completely break this man? _ A part of him was excited to try and find out.

He snagged Daemon’s arm and pulled him into his lap. His other hand found a glass bottle, its stopper formed into a delicate bloom. He kissed the man, his forked tongue slipping past blunted teeth.

"Relax, Dae. Give yourself to Uncle Sam…"

"Never…" Daemon whispered enticingly.

_ The tease… _

The man bit down on Sanguine's returning tongue as lips joined once more. "You owe me…" 

"For what, Dae?"

"You know exactly 'what for'…" The man had started panting in cute little needy gasps, Daemon's hard shell finally, finally starting to flake away. On each annoyed breath, the Imperial attempted to steal another kiss.

Unable to hold back his glee, Sanguine grinned. "I'm not sure I do." He laughed, pouring a generous swath of rose-scented oil across his champion's lower back and ass. The man could be talking about the potion Sanguine had snuck him, or even the skeever Sanguine had sent to steal the man's belongings.

Fingers curled momentarily tighter around Sanguine's biceps as Daemon flinched with the initial chill of the oil. It heating quickly with the man's scalding skin. 

The man's head dipped to Sanguine's chest. The Prince would have preferred to see the face of his champion, but from the growing strength of the fingers in his arms, and the quaking short breaths, the back of the man's head was the best he was going to get out of Daemon.

"I have you, Dae…" he assured the man, Sanguine's skillful fingers beginning to tease the sweet temptation of Daemon's tight hole.

The man hissed as Sanguine's fingers breached him, the other glorious sounds remaining suppressed… for now. Somehow the man was still able to hold onto that stubborn discipline regardless of how shredded Sanguine had left it.

Sanguine accepted the unuttered challenge.

His fingers dug and rubbed, seeking out that wonderous spot he knew hid within his intrigue, and when he found it…

Daemon grunted, spine shooting straight as his eyes were forcibly drawn to Sanguine's with his arousal.

"There you are…" Sanguine purred, giving that delightful spot another purposeful rub.

The man growled, the semblance of a moan tracing its edges. His fingers were digging tight into Sanguine's constructed flesh. "Yoooou-" His honey-colored eyes squeezed shut again.

"Me," Sanguine assured him as he continued to work Daemon open.

The man squirmed as his temperature rose. There would be only one way to quell it. Sanguine's serum running through Daemon's veins would make sure of that.

"I'm…" breathed the man. "I'm so… hot." A beading of sweat glistened along Daemon's back, each drop infused with his lust. The scent was the sweetest wine Sanguine ever indulged in. It took all of his feeble self-control to not just lick it off the man's body.

"Oh, I've always known that," Sanguine teased, twisting his fingers to stretch Daemon that much more.

Unable to summon much more defiance without unleashing something else, his champion only rolled his eyes.

Chuckling slightly, Sanguine poured more oil onto his hands. Daemon's hole was practically dripping, but Sanguine wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Despite his champion's rough exterior, the man held little love for pain. 

A shame, but Sanguine could work around that slight flaw. "I think you're ready for me, Dae."

The man's face had sunk into Sanguine's shoulder. 

"Dae…?"

"Just fucking do it already before I change my mind!" the man half-snarled, half-snapped. His face remained tight into the crook of Sanguine's neck, his hot breath tickling Sanguine's throat.

"You are such a delightful tease…" Sanguine whispered, hand sliding to his own cock and encouraging it to Daemon’s prepped entrance. 

Daemon clamped down on Sanguine, his puckered hole reluctant to let him in so easily. But, an encouraging thrust of hips pushed him past it. 

_ Finally… _

His champion tightened around him. Arms, legs… his insides. All warm. All inviting. Sanguine set a pace as Daemon was the more… reluctant of the two.

Sanguine would have this man sing for him.

* * *

“What are you thinking about, Dae?” Sam asked kissing into the top of Daemon’s head, hands still roaming the lines of his body despite their earlier love-making.

“Nothing,” answered Daemon, for once just basking in the post-coital afterglow. 

Sam was literally glowing, his red tattoos near white. “Nothing? Did I fuck you out of your mind? Was I just that good?” The Daedra was grinning, wide and obnoxious.

Daemon shoved the cocky bastard off of him to pull away from the bed.

“Oh, don’t be like that…” The Daedra was pretend pouting, but it didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around Daemon’s waist to pull him back to his lap. Sam pressed a kiss to Daemon’s cheek.

Daemon didn’t quite appreciate the responding betrayal of the Daedra’s tattoos with the affection as his heart skipped a beat.


	4. A Date with the Devil *Newest*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here is that other remaining chapter. Who knows though... I might come back for these two. They are awfully fun to write.

Long burning incense left a heavy fog curling around the door of his client’s questionable choice of business. He stared again at the golden hawk mask that had come with the contract held in his hand. 

Apparently, his client wanted this transaction to be as discreet as possible.

With a sigh, he affixed the mask to his face. It wasn't the worst thing he'd done for a job. Not by a long shot. Daemon pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

The air felt almost thicker inside, choking the low burning candles that illuminated the dark space. Every body occupying the cavernous room were similarly wearing masks, some ranging into far more elaborate than the simple filigree of his gifted own. 

He noticed that birds were a popular choice of style, but fortunately, he was looking for someone wearing a silver cat mas-

Daemon was filled with the intense desire to leave. Immediately. He recognized the expanse of revealed copper skin and emberous red tattoos. There was no need for the mask.

“It looks good on you, Babe. Brings out the gold of your eyes.” The Daedra tapped his temple, a slow grin forming on his face as he shouldered down into the surrounding plush cushions. Sam just looked like he belonged in this place of false luxury. “Sit…”

The man really didn’t want to, but the longer he stood the more attention was drawn to the Daedra's table. The Imperial sat. Reluctantly. “What about the contract?” Daemon asked irritably, finding nowhere to sit that wasn't awkward or covered in thick cushions. He chose the lesser of comfort evils and pushed aside a large pillow that draped over the edge of a lounging chair. Doing so, caused a small cascade of blankets and smaller cushions into the opened space. He sighed and sat on a somewhat stable pillow.

“A ploy. Mostly. I needed something to lure you back into the open.” The Daedra sounded almost heart broken. If it were even possible. “You have been avoiding me…”

Daemon felt his brow twitch. He stood quickly, eager to find a real job before the winter set in.

“Wai-wai-wait.” Sam clutched at his sleeve, the Daedra's own scanty robe slipping from his shoulder in the process. “Babe. Please. At least wait for the refreshments. You look positively famished. What are you even eating out in the wild? Sticks?”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed behind his mask, accenting his already hawkish glare. Hunting was always a pain, and foraging for edibles was even more taxing. Daemon had a bad habit of forgoing food entirely if it proved too much effort. Apparently, he had been letting that habit go too far if Sam was noticing his weight loss through his dark armor.

He glanced away, almost regretting it as he caught the couple at the next table with their literal trousers down. They too busy fucking each other to remember their rather public setting. 

The Imperial sat back down and nestled his knuckles against his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fine.” 

As the Daedra relaxed, Daemon could only hope he wouldn't regret it.

****

The Imperial was surprised. It was actually food that made it to their table. It didn’t however, make him want to trust any of it - especially after the last time he accepted anything from Sam. 

Daemon brought out a small leather bag and laid out his tools. To the supposed tea set in front of him, he dipped in a silver rod. Nothing happened. To the food, he sprinkled some powders. Again, nothing happened.

“Do you really trust me that little?”

“Of course.” Despite his stomach, Daemon was still untrusting. But, he had no other methods remaining to test for potential tampering.

"Then let me sample it for you…" The Daedra plucked a small sampling of about everything from the small buffet set out on the table and ate it. Again, nothing happened.

Supposing that magic would at least react to the Daedra, Daemon finally pulled out a fork. His fork. Untampered with. He really did miss real food. 

"Allow me," Sam easily filched the fork from Daemon's fingers and stabbed the nearest thing. Chicken. Conveniently cubed.

Daemon intercepted the fork before it made it to his mouth. "I am hardly a child," he said rather annoyed before he personally stuck the piece of boiled chicken into his mouth.

"No. But, I still want to feed you…"

The fork froze in the air on its way to a second piece. Daemon's arm was no longer listening to him.

With ease Sam plucked it from his hand again. The Daedra inspected the silver cutlery before giving it a slow lick.

"How…?" Daemon asked, still able to have some ability to speak. If his food had been tampered with, something should have triggered his tests. His drink too - not that he had managed to get that far.

Sam didn't answer immediately, instead offering another slow tap to his temple… no his mask as an explanation.

Daemon's eyes shot wide, but that was all. His body remained frozen where the paralysis left him. Sam had coated the inside of Daemon's mask with some sort of poison. One that absorbed through the skin. And, he foolishly hadn't tested the mask. He hadn't thought there would have been a need. 

_ That slimey Daedric fucker! _

All of his immediate rage couldn't even be properly expressed. 

"No running this time?" the Daedra has the nerve to ask innocently, when he was anything but. Sam raised the fork again, this time teasing the next morsal on it between Daemon's teeth without interruption.

_ Daemon couldn't even entertain the idea. What was the Daedra think- _

His jaw moved on its own volition. It chewed the tender piece of meat slowly - as if to enjoy it, before swallowing. Daemon was shocked. Mortified. The paralysis of earlier had been far preferable to this, at least it had implied a normal poison… not whatever this evident enchantment was. 

He swallowed, and the Daedra allowed him a moment to stew before bullying him with another forkful.

"What will it take for you to finally leave me alone?" he asked, discovering that speech was one of the few things he was allowed beyond breathing and blinking.

The Daedra chuckled as if he said something amusing and set the fork down. "Dae. Babe. As my chosen champion, you're stuck with me. You only leave my service if I grow bored of you… And, trust me. You are the most wonderfully entertaining thing I have encountered in years." Sam reached out to tap Daemon on the nose, and this time, Daemon couldn't even try to stop him. 

He hoped his glare could bore holes straight through the Daedra's skull.

Sam's finger hovered without actually touching Daemon's nose. Instead, the finger retreated and a hand cupped Daemon's chin up. On a smirk, Sam said, "Ho. So, scary, Babe."

"You are patronizing me…"

The Daedra grinned wider. "Yes. I can't help it. You're just so adorable when you're angry. Just makes me want to…" Sam didn't finish. He just squeezed his legs together and tapped a pinky into the corner of his mouth. "Now… do we continue dinner, or do we skip straight to dessert?" Sam darted his split tongue over his upper-lip, and Daemon got the distinct impression he wouldn't be eating whatever dessert the Daedra had in mind. Rather, he might be the one being eaten.

"If I choose dessert, will this… thing of yours end faster?"

Sam's face fell. It almost looked like he was pouting. "Why are you always trying to leave me, Babe?" he asked just a little too loudly. Several eyes from the other table looked up from their own proclivities to watch Sam whine from Daemon's lap, all but sprawled across him like a cat in heat. They returned to their own activities quickly with a wave from the Daedra.

"Because no one is paying me to be here…"

The Daedra perked up. "Well, if that was the problem…" Sam stretched on top of him, then sat backwards. With a snap on deft fingers, a bag of coins materialized on the table.

From his bodily prison, Daemon glowered at the bag, its contents spilling just enough to be enticing. "I'm not a whore."

"Oh, Dae. I know you're not." Sam slapped one of Daemon's cheeks lightly. "Think of it as a cancellation payment on that contract. Additional terms of cancellation… you finish dessert with me."

"It wasn't even a real contract."

Sam looked aghast. "Not real? Babe it was very real. 'Terms to be discussed in person'?"

"It said it was for-" Daemon caught himself, much to the Daedra's amusement. The contract was to accompany an individual. It didn't specify where or how. Daemon had assumed it to be another merchant trying to hire him, not... "Will you release this enchantment?"

The Daedra took his time answering. One of Sam's fingers traced the outline of Daemon's hawk mask. He was contemplating something. "After, I think. You have a habit of running… Or, at least trying to." Sam chuckled at his own joke.

"I got stabbed last time I was involved in one of your plans, and that was when I could move."

"An accident, I can assure you."

"I could have died."

"Could have, but you didn't. It would reflect badly on me if my champion died in my own orgy."

"Poor you."

The Daedra had the nerve to not even look embarrassed. If anything, he played up the dramatics. "Poor me." Sam put the back of his hand to his forehead and looked into the distance. He remained distracted until something caught his attention. "Dessert, Dae. Then you're free to go… for now."

"Is there particularly any reason why you are trying to hurry me? It's not as if I can go anywhere."

Sam enjoyed Daemon's little returned jape. The Daedra smiled then combed a hand back through Daemon's short, brown locks to grip his head. "No. You can't… Though if you don't agree to at least dessert soon, I might feel obligated to add a few more things to my request…"

Daemon's head was tilted to the side. Enough to bare his throat. "Such as…?"

"Interested?" Sam's red eyes glimmer for a second behind his silver cat mask.

"Not particularly." 

"A shame." The Daedra released him. "Now. Dessert? Or were you hoping that I was still up for entertaining dinner?"

"Do I get to feed myself?"

"Does that mean you'll stay longer?"

"It means I'm hungry, and I'm not about to deal with whatever shite you're calling 'dessert' on an empty stomach."

"So harsh, but fair." Sam considered him for another moment. Before raising a finger to point at him. "You get to feed yourself. For dinner only. And, you stop when I think you're done. It would be disastrous if you don't leave any room for later. Deal?"

Daemon was likely going to regret it. "Deal."

"Excellent."

Like a puppet's strings suddenly cut loose, Daemon felt himself go lax. He wiggled his fingers, finding nothing wrong with them. 

"Dinner first, Dae."

His first reaction was to just rip the mask from his face - even more than knocking the Daedra off of him. He reached up to do just that, and found himself paralyzed… again.

"Tsk. Tsk. Daemon, my adorable little mortal. You weren't just thinking to try and wriggle out of our deal were you?"

"I was actually. Mask off, then gut you with the fork. I might make it past the door before you could recover."

The Daedra playfully sighed and leaned up against Daemon's chest again. Sam walked two fingers up Daemon's torso then stroked his cheek fondly. "What to do with you…"

"Let me move."

Sam clicked his tongue. "I'm not sure I can trust you, Dae. You did just admit to wanting to cause me bodily harm."

"You would have probably loved it."

"Oh, yes." The Daedra began to pet the back of Daemon's head, his fingers coaxing their way through the tight trim at the bottom and working into the slightly longer hairs towards the top. "You, penetrating me deeply. I imagine multiple times, until my poor body can't handle that big powerful weapon of yours."

"Sam."

"Yes, Dae."

"Your hand is on my crotch."

The Daedra doesn't even seem phased. Instead, Sam kneaded Daemon's member through the stiff fabric of his trousers. "Is it? I could have sworn it was your hunting knife."

"You stole that when I sat down…"

Grinding down against Daemon's thigh, Sam tossed his arms back around the Imperial's neck. "Guilty. But, you did manage to cut those ropes I had made just for you. I didn't want a repeat of last time."

"I'm pretty sure that was standard rope."

"It was still made for you, Babe."

"As was that ridiculous bronze tub of milk you tried to soak me in at the time, I'm sure."

"You wouldn't cooperate," Sam huffed.

"I had six hitmen after me, and you wanted a long, lazy fuck."

"And, how ironic it would have been for them to join in an impromptu orgy, one eventually marrying a goat stolen from a giant."

Daemon didn't want to ask why Sam got particularly detailed towards the end, but he was curious enough to want to know what had become of his stalkers. "What did eventually happen to them?" All he had known was that they were uncomfortably close when a certain Daedric Prince had attempted to kidnap him.

The Daedra's nose scrunched up. "I had a 'long, lazy fuck' with the one that looked the most like you in said milk bath… I can't remember what happened with the others."

'Can't remember' was Sam's way of saying, 'things got too crazy and maybe a few died'. Considering Daemon currently didn't have to watch his back anymore, it was more likely all of his would-be killers were dead.

"Thanks… I suppose."

"I'll just add it to your tab."

Daemon couldn't help the slight laugh. "I have a tab?"

"Indeed." Sam teased another piece of food between Daemon's lips. 

Supposing he had somewhat broke his contract with Sam, Daemon ate the piece, slowly, trying to shove all the world's resentment he could into the process. There was no way he was going to let the Daedra's tattoos oust him again. He couldn't remotely enjoy such treatment… such care. He would be teased mercilessly. Toyed with. Daemon had to remind himself of what Sam was. A Daedra.

He ate the next piece and the several pieces after the same way. Bitterly and humiliated. Thankful that whatever was in the incense he couldn't smell was making everyone else rather focused on each other than on him and his Daedric menace of a companion.

Daemon saw the platter of condiments - whipped cream, berry sauces, and melted chocolate - set at their table with barely an acknowledgment from the waiter. "No," he declared when nothing else came to put said condiments on.

"But, the chocolate's imported… Just for you." Sam was already greedily eyeing both the condiments and Daemon.

"I don't care."

"Babe… My darling li-"

"No." 

"You already agreed to this…" Sam pouted.

Daemon's lips drew to a thin line. He knew he had agreed to something bizarre… some odd kink of the Daedra's. He just wasn't aware of how bizarre. "And, what exactly did I agree to?" 

The Daedra's grin returned. "Possibly the best time you've ever had."

"I have my doubts."

"Well, I'll have to enjoy it for you then." 

Daemon wasn't in a good place to argue. He had, in theory, already agreed to the Daedra's scheme. He sighed, relenting, and let his pride sit out for this event. "At least, don't get my armor dirty."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

The Daedra sounded strangely confident, especially considering that Daemon was wearing one of his more covering armors. A high collar and where dark leather didn't cover a heavy pinstriped gabeson did. 

"You think that armor will slow me, Dae? Want to see how fast I can get you out of it?"

Daemon was intrigued, but not about to be baited. "Magic is considered cheating."

Sam hummed, his eyes darting over the difficult clasps and buckles. "Perhaps." The Daedra decidedly didn't care about Daemon's accusation, nor did Sam seem to care much about Daemon's armor in general. "But, so is being so damn delightful…" A flick of the Daedra's hand split Daemon's armor open down to olive skin. The only thing intact was the laces on his codpiece.

"If you wrecked my armor…"

"Hush. I'll get you something better." Sam said as he slipped from Daemon's lap to sit on his knees on the floor.

Daemon was skeptical, with good reason, regarding any choice of covering Sam would pick out. Besides one instance when they first met, he had yet to see the Daedra dress in more than something that pulled open with every subtle movement. "It needs to actually cover something. Armor is supposed to protect me."

The Daedra huffed and returned his eyes to Daemon's. His chin was poking into Daemon's belly, hands toying with the laces on his pants. "You are so boring."

"I like to stay alive."

"Again. Boring."

"Hard to fuck someone if they are a corpse."

"Easy, actually. Just far less enjoyable."

"Whatever you are giving me as recompense needs to cover _ everything." _

"Fine." Sam was hardly paying attention to him now, rather almost all of his attention was directed onto a certain part of Daemon's anatomy. "Hello there," Sam cooed at Daemon's crotch.

"It's not going to answer…"

Sam fished out Daemon's cock, hand gingerly wrapping around his girth. The Daedra… Daemon sighed. The Daedra waved its tip in Daemon's direction, and in a higher pitch said, "Says you. I've been attached to you, Boy, for how many years, and you're still trying to deny me a good wanking?"

Daemon's brow shot up his forehead. The Daedra's maturity continued to astound him. "Really?"

"What can I say? Your dick knows a good time when it sees one." Sam gave Daemon a chaste kiss along his shaft. Again, Sam pitched his voice higher. "Oh, Sammy-boy you know how to treat me right. Lather me in that sweet deliciousness and lick me clean like a lollipop."

Daemon still couldn't believe the Daedra was puppeting his cock. "I swear I must be older than you…"

"If you define age by how much fun you can suck out of a room, then yes. You, Babe, are ancient." Sam leaned back to retrieve the first bowl set at their table. 

The Imperial continued to watch Sam with a skeptical look on his face. 

"No? Not your thing?" The Daedra dipped his hand into the sticky mass, and smeared it up and down Daemon's cock. "I'll find out your little secrets eventually," whispered Sam to Daemon's cock.

"Please stop talking to it…"

"Jealous?" 

Daemon didn't even try to answer the Daedra as Sam licked a stripe through the syrup. He started at the base again, teasing the pinch between Daemon's balls and cock. His teeth nibbled and nipped, earning a tight hiss.

When Daemon was licked clean, Sam would start again, alternating between each sweet substance. 

"You are… going to get… sick," Daemon said between discipline breaths.

"Of you? Never, Babe."

Daemon didn't blush. He was pretty sure his tough years had made him incapable of blushing. His back, however, drew that much stiffer under the mask's enchantment.

Sam chuckled around Daemon's cock, the vibration running up his length in further stimulation. The Daedra's tattoos flared ever slightly, glowing as if a coal fire fed by a slow billow.

Everywhere the Daedra touched, tingled, a small teased flame dancing over Daemon's body and exposed shame. His leg spasmed as Sam finally pulled off of him. His face was flushed from the heat burning his loins.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" the Daedra asked smugly, eyes near-glued to Daemon's proud-standing member.

Daemon tried to shove the grinning Daedra off his chest. All he succeeded in doing was twitching his arm. He frowned at Sam.

"So shy…" Sam teased lightly, but there was a moment's hesitation crossing his expression as his gaze flitted from the arm Daemon had barely moved. 

Daemon tried once more, but found the Daedra's hand coming to brace the limb. Sam smoothed his hand over its cloth and leather wrappings, fiddled with buckles starting to lose their shine from repeated cleanings. To all of it, he simply tsked, and cut those back as well to expose more of Daemon.

"My bracers too?" 

Sam rubbed his thumb into the olive skin, massaging Daemon's forearm as his hand worked to Daemon's wrist. He twined his fingers into Daemon's hand, the leather glove separating them dissolving into nothing.

Daemon was about to complain about his gloves as well, when Sam shushed him with two sticky fingers pressing against the man's lips. "You certainly complain a lot, Dae."

"You give me ample reason to." He mentioned nothing of how he could feel himself wanting to close his hand, his fingers gently squeezing the hand in his. Sam's tattoos shone just that bit brighter, and Daemon banished his unspoken desire before the Daedra noticed anything.

"I have done nothing but service you today…" The Daedra pouted, his lower lip adding a faked quiver.

Daemon wasn't convinced. "Like fattening a pig before a slaughter, I'm sure. You are replacing my armor?"

Sam's nose scrunched up, but it was difficult to tell by which degree when it was covered by the silver cat mask. "Yes. Yes." Though sounding bored by Daemon's continued pesting, Sam had seated himself completely in Daemon's lap again. His arms stretched around the man's neck, and his own engorged member pressing subtly against Daemon's.

"I think he's made a friend," Sam said referring to how both of their cocks were propped against each other.

Daemon continued to be the proverbial wet blanket to Sam's antics. "It's non-sentient. It does not make 'friends'."

The Daedra gained a small frown. "Dae. You need to drink more. Sober you is not fun at all."

"I've been sober plenty of times before…" He felt almost offended by Sam's accusation. 

"And, you've been no fun for all of them."

Daemon wasn't sure what to feel. "Sober me, is a safe me. Is an alive me," he defended.

Sam seemed surprised by his eventual response. The Daedra ground up against Daemon's growing erection as if in a subtle approval. "You are safe with me…" he whispered enticingly.

"Again. Stabbed at your orgy."

The Daedra sucked in a tight breath before breathing out slowly. His sclera flashed black for a missable second. "That offender won't be a threat to you any longer."

A chill ran down Daemon's spine at Sam's words, even as the Daedra resumed smearing whatever was next onto his cock - onto both of their cocks pressed tightly together. Daemon would even think to ask what happened to the individual who stabbed him. But, he likely would never want to know.

"Can I get you to relax now, Babe?"

Daemon didn't answer immediately, but when he did, "I'm not this… stiff by choice." 

Sam grinned at the subtle pun. It was quite clear what else had grown stiff, played to a full hardness by a constant pampering of varying pressures… and liquid chocolate. 

Daemon winced with the thought of how he was going to get that out of his pubic hair.

"Oh, you can relax…" Sam purred. "I'll permit it."

Daemon felt the paralysis enchantment fade. Just a little, and just enough that he had to start supporting his own spine again if he wanted to continue sitting straight. He couldn't help trying to see if he could do more than… relax, finding that his muscles seized again the moment the thought even crossed his mind.

The Daedra tutted at him. "I said you could relax, but no more than that. I'm famished." Sam leaned in, his eyes fluttering closed as he moved for a kiss. 

Breaths mingled for a moment's hesitation before Daemon found himself kissing the Daedra. It was sweet. Flavoured by berries, and cream.

Something brushed his cock. A tickling heat against its head.

Daemon managed to jerk his head away before things grew to heated, before things grew to more than fondling. More than hisses between tight teeth. "Not in public…" He kept his eyes stern, despite the earlier kiss having weakened what defenses he could still keep.

Sam didn't even slow. Barely even looked at Daemon. "Alright," he replied, continuing to sink onto Daemon's length to eventually envelope his length whole.

"Not-!" It was then that Daemon realized they were alone. Not another soul was around them anymore.

The Daedra finally looked back up at him. Sam was grinning fully. A predator's smile. "You were saying?"

Daemon opened his mouth and then closed it again. He couldn't even determine if the others had even been real. With how soundlessly everyone vanished, it was very likely.

Content with Daemon's reaction, Sam started a slow rhythm. He pressed down on Daemon's chest as he raised himself, a hard pressure that softed as he slid back down to Daemon's hilt. "So, no food kink…" Sam started on an updraw. "And, no public indecency…" he breathed on a particularly quick plunge. His brows knitted with an uncharacteristic focus. “What will it take to unravel your mysteries?”

Daemon couldn't help his brows shooting up slightly on his forehead again. _ Was not knowing Daemon's… kinks really that bothersome? _

The Daedra continued his rhythm, but his mind seemed elsewhere. His godless skill, more closer to mortal achievability. Enough that Daemon could maintain his current sanity - albeit a little breathy. "Far more… than sex…" he said without other intent, though the way Sam's eyes glinted for a second, he might as well invited the Daedra.

"So you keep saying." Sam closes his mouth over Daemon's, as if to steal the breath from his lungs. An eager tongue works its way past stubborn teeth, to coax Daemon's tongue in joining.

Sam tasted sweet.

Daemon's eyes could only widen with the sting of alcohol growing in his mouth. He tried to bite the tongue in his mouth, but it retracted before he could.

"Shhh… Be a good boy and drink your medicine…" Sam bent for his lips again, a red line sliding from lip to chin as he did so.

Unable to move, Daemon was kissed again, the earlier innocence of berries and cream ruined by the burn of wine. It slipped unwelcomed into his belly where it settled and began clouding his thoughts.

"We're trying 'far more than sex'."

Daemon… swallows. _ Reluctantly, _ his thoughts desperately iterate. "So you sa-" 

Sam chose that moment to roll his hips as he pistoned down to squeeze Daemon's length. It took that barest moment for Sam to fully sheath Daemon once more and chase the snarky words from his mouth. It didn't help that Sam's tattoos glowed a touch brighter with the mouth-to-mouth drink exchange.

The Daedra grinned smugly with his minor victory - hopefully still ignorant of Daemon's mild slip.

Daemon could only be so lucky.

Sam kissed him again, coaxing more wine down his throat. The Daedra purred with every messy swallow that couldn't quite catch everything Daemon was being passed.

The man could feel the interest writhing in Sam's chest. The Daedra had figured out that there was some connection to Daemon's sexual interests. _ Interests that generally eluded the Daedra. _

"A feeding kink…"

_ Interests that continued to elude said Daedra. _

Wrongly confident, Sam tried again the wine, but the surprise effect of earlier coupled with a slight overindulgence muted any further affect.

The sight of Sam's confident grin slipping from his face made the corners of Daemon's lips turn up, provided the Daedra stopped bouncing on his cock long enough for the man to enjoy such a sight. 

"I'll work you raw," Sam promised in light of his growing frustration.

Daemon could form no words as the Daedra made good on his promise. The Daedra rode him like an expert, exerting just the right amount of squeeze, pull, and push that would of had his hands curling into the plush pillows and throw blankets at his sides. But, he couldn't move. Not even to join the Daedra in their union. He was a bystander in his own body. Subjected to every bit a pleasure and arousal that the Daedra could throw his way. Accompanied by a near constant symphony of moans from Sam's lips as he enjoyed things perhaps a little bit too much.

Sam would work Daemon up to his climax, but then would cheekily retreat him from that edge. The Daedra would cruelly repeat the actions, teasing ever closer to Daemon's release.

Daemon's mouth gaped open like a fish, his head tilted back as his eyes just about roll up into his skull. His chin was kissed and nuzzled as the hot body sat restlessly upon him. Up. Down. Up. Down. Fast. Slow. His heart was beating wildly. His pulse, the thundering hooves of a war horse.

The Daedra grew eager, his own erection weeping and waving between them. Thick strings of pearls slide drip between them, only further lubricating Sam's motions.

Finally, the Daedra relented, granting mercy to Daemon's strained heart. He rode him to the pinnacle of ecstasy and carried him past. 

Daemon spent himself, filling the Daedra on top of him until seed began dripping down his thighs. He could feel his cock twitch and shudder, desperate for more despite its softening state. 

Sam tried to oblige riding him just that bit more before spending and coating Daemon's front. He smeared the painted white across Daemon's chest as he pulled free from the man's member. "Ready for a second round?" Sam's fingers duck between Daemon's thighs to stroke suggestively over his puckered entrance.

"Not… quite… Not… now…" He was breathy like he had run a marathon - though some might consider sex with a varvatious Daedra one. 

Daemon considered the ruby liquid curving down his sides and soaking into what remained of his coverings. He considered the strong smelling wine pooling with Sam's cum around and in his belly button, and the sticky mess that was his cock. His head rolled back as he lost the strength to hold it up. 

"I… I need a bath…" was all Daemon could say as his mask finally fell from his face, freeing his body from its enchantment.

****

"Don't you just adore me, Dae."

Daemon didn't look at the Daedra. He was too busy getting the stink of alcohol out of his hair and skin. He didn't even want to think about the lingering berry juice and chocolate that he couldn’t quite wash off his cock with the wash basin made available to him. "I would willingly accept any contract to flay you and hang you up by your bollocks."

"The naughty things you say…" Sam practically swooned, earning himself an eye roll from Daemon. 

"You don't think I would?"

"Oh, I know you would. And, I think you might even be able to enjoy yourself doing it." Every word out of the Daedra's mouth was somehow making Sam hornier and hornier.

It made Daemon seriously reconsider his earlier statement. "I wouldn't… actually. Take the contract. Because I know it would be from you."

Sam practically collapsed against Daemon. "Why? Why must you tease me so?"

"Why must you be so overly dramatic?" Daemon tried to push Sam off him to get some space.

The Daedra pulled back to recline in some invisible chair. "Someone has to be. And, you sure aren't about to crack more than a smile."

The smell of alcohol wasn't going away. Daemon shouldn't even be able to smell anything, and it seemed everywhere. He scrubbed harder.

"You're going to start tearing your own skin off doing that… Unless that's what you're into…"

Unfortunately, Sam was right. The skin was beginning to fade from pink to red, even breaking through in some places. Daemon stopped and angrily tossed the cloth back into the mildly soapy water. He pressed his palms tight against the side table and stared at his rippling reflection. "What in Oblivion was in that alcohol?"

"Hmm? Nothing…" the Daedra was quick to say.

"Nothing…?"

"Nothing. Why?" Sam tilted his head to the side and was looking very interested in Daemon's next words.

"It's nothing."

"You are such a tease. No. Something caught your attention. Why did you ask if I did anything to the alcohol?"

"Did you do something?"

Sam let his head flop back as he crossed his legs over the other. "And, if I said I did… What do you think I did?"

Daemon knew he had trapped himself, and knowing Sam's infuriating insistance he'd be pestered for a while. He relented and answered. "I smell. I absolutely reek."

The Daedra didn't respond. Not right away. He stared, eyes narrowing and brows shooting up skeptically on his forehead. "I thought you said you can't smell anything?"

"I can't… couldn't." Beyond the continuous stench of alcohol, Daemon still couldn't smell anything. It was hard to tell if he could actually smell anything else now. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," was all Sam offered before he abruptly vanished.

The Imperial was left staring at where the Daedra had last been. That was probably the only time Daemon had ever seen the Sam run from something. The Daedra hadn't even tried to change the topic as he was usually want to. He had just disappeared. Immaculate armor left in his place.

"Fucker," Daemon muttered under his breath, almost more determined than before to wash the smell off.


	5. Deepening Ties

The man raised an eyebrow as his head tilted to the side. “Do I want to even ask?” It wasn’t even that late in the day, but just staring at the Daedra and his… toys had already managed to make Daemon tired.

Sam noticed him enter immediately, letting out a lewd moan as he pulled the vibrating stone from his ass. “I was so lonely without you, Babe.”

“I can see that…” Daemon didn’t want to set his stuff down. There was something about what Sam had done that made it feel like he won’t be getting anything back if he did. Like there was something living in the walls of the rented room. “I was gone for an hour. Tops. What did you do in here?”

“Little ol’ me? Why nothi-”

The man quickly drew the knife attached to his front and stabbed it into the wall beside him. 

Sam’s lips drew in on themselves, especially when the wall squealed and something slithered back into the wooden slats of the room leaving the hunting knife embedded in where Daemon had stuck it. “Maybe just a little something…”

With eyes squeezed shut, Daemon rubbed the bridge of his nose, his fingers reflexively smoothing over the old scar that ran horizontally across it. “At least can you tell me if this can all be put back? To normal? I barely have enough to cover my expenses as it is.”

“Maybe… What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you had planned with the tentacle monster.”

“Dick monster, but that was on the table regardless.” The Daedra didn’t even try to look the least bit sorry he had been caught.

“No. It wasn’t.” Daemon crossed his arms over his chest. He would have leaned back as well, but he wasn’t exactly sure where Sanguine’s pet had moved to hide.

Sam clicked his tongue. Despite his power, it seemed that Daemon’s willingness to participate was a huge contributor to the Daedra’s antics. “You drive a hard bargain, Dae. Making me of all people, clean up after myself…”

“You are hardly ‘people’.”

“Your words are so harsh.”

“You deserve it.” Daemon’s eyes drew to the opposite wall, catching on something he swore he saw sliding behind the bed. “So? I get a spotless room that I won’t have to pay damages on, and you and your… whatever get in some fun?”

Sam chewed his thumbnail, seemingly contemplating the offer before him.

“Well, if you need me, I’ll be heading out…” His hand rested on the door handle.

“Fine. Deal.”

_ Sometimes it was like dealing with a child… a very horny child. _

“I honestly don’t see why you are always so resistant…”

“Because you would take my ass for a mile if I let you.”

The Daedra’s eyes flashed as his split tongue swiped across his top lip. “Oh, I would. And, you would be screaming my name as I did it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever ‘screamed your name’.”

“I know. A damnable shame.”

Daemon could only shake his head as a soft smile unfurled on his face. He set his pack down, noting how it shimmered then vanished into the floor. “We’re not in my rented room… are we?”

“Nope.” Sam popped the ‘p’ with a certain smug deliberateness as he rolled onto his belly. “Your ‘rented room’ stays spotless and I don’t have to clean up anything.”

“Clever. I suppose it's too late to change my conditions of our deal then?” Daemon suspected as much. The Daedra hadn’t exactly been complaining as hard as he’d seen him in the past.

“Far too late.”

****

Sam sat in the chair, somehow able to make the flimsy pieces of wood look like a throne. His form shifted, copper skin lightening just enough to be a suntanned-olive, his black hair pulling back into his scalp to be a short-cropped brown. It wasn’t until Daemon met eerily similar gold eyes that he knew. Knew the face that was looking back at him. Complete with scar slashed across Sam's nose.

The Daedra’s grin spreading wide across Daemon’s own damn face was the only thing that seemed out of place.

“Like it?” Sam coyly asked as he leaned back, his eyes sweeping over Daemon’s irritated expression then to the form he had mimicked. “It think it's one of my favorites.”

“Is it now?”

Sam hummed his confirmation. His hand, shaped as Daemon’s hand, slipped down his front and towards his length. With Daemon’s face, it was odd to see the look of contentedness on it, a smug, stupid grin as he began to play with himself.

Daemon quirked his own slight smile, which quickly changed when it felt like there was a hand wrapped around his cock. He looked down. There was no hand. No hand except for the one wrapped on his impossibly pleased copy.

_ Yooooou… _ his thoughts growled at the Daedra's trick.

"Me," Sam impossibly responded.

Sam’s pet whistled softly as it wriggled deeper into his ass, a few tentacles leaving vibrant red hickies up his arms as it shifted its hold on him.

“How would you like to come without anyone touching you?” Sam continued to roll his cock between his fingers, the sensitive skin tugging with each stroke.

Daemon clamped his mouth shut before anything slipped out, his eyes squeezed shut as his head bowed.

"You like that, Dae? Oh, why do I bother asking? Of course you do." The Daedra was all but purring. No. Scratch that. Sam was actually purring. The deep rumble filled the air. "I can feel everything."

Daemon was invisibly pumped as the cock stuffing him was content to just throb in time to each stroke. Sam would pick up his pace, then slow down. His honey-sweet eyes, a hunter's focus on Daemon's face.

"It's going to take… take more than a… sloppy handjob," Daemon said, just maybe a little too breathy.

"You think so?" The Daedra teased his cockhead, the pad of his thumb pressing against his slit in a deliberate slide across its beading tip.

Daemon's own cock gave a traitorous twitch. His fists clenched tightly.

"I suppose you might be right…" 

Daemon’s head tilted back, with a sigh on his lips. He wasn’t sure if was from the brief pause the Daedra was giving him, or from the fact that Sam’s pet had finally stopped prodding his prostate. Probably both.

Eventually, his gaze shifted away from the ceiling back to the Daedra. He almost preferred the ceiling to the stupid grin Sam wore, and the rose-gold ring he suddenly held between his fingers.

“A ring. Just for you.”

Daemon stared at the band of metal again. It was far too large to fit any of his fingers. “That’s not…”

Sanguine was grinning wide. “It is. Let me see if it fits.”

Sanguine’s pet shifted and spread Daemon’s legs that much further apart. “No.”

“‘No’? Babe, after all the weird shit you’ve let me do, you’re drawing the line at a cock ring?”

“I am when it’s enchanted.”

“For stamina,” the Daedra was quick to try and defend.

Daemon had a hard time believing him, and his skepticism showed on his face.

“Mostly…”

"And that's what worries me."

"Why must you always try to ruin my fun?"

"I'm an old man. Can't have all you young folk enjoying yourself."

Sam didn't respond immediately. "You're hardly old," he huffed eventually as he leaned back with the ring still between his fingers.

“Doesn’t always feel like it.”

"Well, there is one thing that will fix that stamina of yours." Trying to entice Daemon to the jewelry, the Daedra gave it a showy wiggle.

Daemon got a distinct feeling that the Daedra wasn't going to stop trying to accessorize his cock. The most Daemon could do was delay the inevitable. 

Sighing, the man tugged on his living restraints. The creature allowed only a minimum of the movement to actually manifest. "If I don't like what else you've enchanted that thing with, it's coming off."

"Deal." The Daedra drew closer, Daemon's face drew closer. "Though I hardly suspect you will dislike what else this thing can do…" Sam tapped said ring against Daemon's nose before he made a show of slipping the rose-gold band over his inflamed tip and sinking it to Daemon's base.

The ring fit snugly around his length. Perfectly snug. Daemon realized that it had indeed been made with him in mind and he wasn't sure how to handle that kind of information.

"Like it was made for you," the Daedra beamed.

“I’m sure it was,” muttered Daemon under his breath. He doesn’t want to admit it, but his early exhaustion had all but disappeared.

From the tilt of Sam’s brow, it was very apparent that he knew. It was apparent his pet knew as well… The thing prodded his prostate one final time before retreating from his hole. It didn’t however, release his arms or legs, instead, bringing forth some sort of new limb that it had been hiding up till now.

“I think it likes you.”

"Yeah…?" Daemon's eyes tracked the newest appendage. Its head was knobbled and was dripping something thick and purple. The limb trembled as it dipped between Daemon's spread legs, seemingly waiting for some kind of approval before it dove into Daemon's hole.

Sam chuckled, his eyes similarly following the dripping thing. "Most assuredly," he purred. "It doesn't pull that one out for just anyone."

"Lucky me…" Between the cock ring, and his own smug face staring at him, Daemon was having second thoughts about his earlier deal. 

_ He should have asked for more from the Daedra… _

Sam nodded, the action being whatever signal his pet was waiting for. It squirmed its way through Daemon's guts, restretching and morphing his insides to its shape as it settled. 

Daemon instinctively squeezed down on it, earning a churring rumble from Sam's pet. The limb fattened as the peculiar noise continued. 

"What is it-?"

Sam shushed him and raised a finger to his lips. "Don't want to ruin the surprise."

This time, the creature spent itself quickly. Purple oozed out from where Daemon and Sam's pet were joined, and it plunged Daemon a few more times to ensure his insides were thoroughly scrubbed with the stuff.

Daemon jerked with a sudden sensitivity. Whatever that purple slop was, it was making everything that more sensitive, that much more responsive to the nubbed length scouring his hole. 

His mind could pinpoint every bump and ridge. His mind could tell him where the appendage stretched him and just how good everything felt. His senses were scrambling for purchase in a sinking void of roses.

"How is it, Daemon? How does it feel to have your ass as touchy as a fresh, virgin pussy?"

Daemon's cock twitched up against his thigh, but it was prevented any kind of release from the exquisite torment. His fingers curled tight into his palms as he tried to keep anything from his face. "I've…" He had to suddenly grit his teeth tight as his insides were licked with hot pleasure. "I've had better…"

"Oh, I severely doubt it…" For the briefest second, the whites of the Daedra's eyes, currently honey-colored, flicked black.

On an unspoken command, the thing milling in his guts curled and writhed. It plundered him in a vigorous rhythm. In and out. In and out. Each nub stretching and tugging on the lip of his puckered hole. Every motion aggravated by an unnatural oversensitivity as he was relentlessly ploughed.

His voice fled as his head fell back, mouth agape. 

_ "Scream my name, Dae…" _ pushed Sam's voice into his head. _ "Let me hear you sing." _

He resisted despite the promise of release flickering behind the command. His cock had become a swollen red thing. Engorged on his lust and desperate with relief from the metal band wrapped around its base. "Ffuuucker…" he hissed through tight teeth.

Through half-closed eyes, he saw he Daedra reclining back. Sam was looking mildly amused, a slight curiosity sitting with the tilt of his head to one side. Eyes meet and something bloomed in the back of Daemon's mind, unfurling languidly as vines of snaking pleasure spread through his body.

Daemon instinctively tried to sink back into his mind, to shield his thoughts, his feelings from the harsh world. He wouldn't be so able this time and the first of many shameful moans were coaxed from his mouth. The rational part of his head was rudely shoved aside, and locked behind a wall of twisting, thorny vines.

His body thrummed with each stroke, each time causing a spasm that piled more arousal behind the vise on his cock. Each twitch of his muscles trapped and contained by Sam's unceasingly fucking pet. 

Not satisfied with just his whorish moans, Sam pushed again. _ "Come on, Babe… My name. I want to hear it. I want you to pray to me." _

The thing inside him thickened, filled him to bursting, but its pace wouldn't slow. Not even as more tentacles began to lather more of the sticky purple across his skin.

His nerves were on fire. From the tips of his toes to the pads of his fingers. Everywhere that cursed substance was spread. He was losing himself to pleasure, groaning and moaning like a two-bit courtesan. 

His nipples were teased to stiff peaks as separate tentacles traced lazy lines across his abs, his pecs. One curled around his ear to slip under his chin and bare his throat to the Daedra.

Sam purred louder with that, his eyes hungry and no longer able to maintain their mortal guise.

It was beginning to hurt, but he wanted more… wanted- "Sam!" he cried out. Daemon was granted a sweet release then. The pressure of the ring loosening with the Daedra's name still on the man's lips. "Sanguine!" His cock spilled across his stomach where it had pressed itself so tightly earlier. 

Ravenous tentacles sought out the white cream, disappearing it with uncanny quickness, as Daemon fell boneless into the creature's steadfast hold.

"Was that so hard?" asked Sam watching him intently as the waving mass of tentacles milked Daemon to the last drop.

The man tried to raise his head from the sheets where he had been lowered to, tried to, but failed. He was simply too tired to do anything. Even breathing had become a chore.

His ass, _ nay his entire fucking body, _ continued to tingle with sloppy arousal as Sam's pet finally retreated.

"Just gorgeous…" Sam said in awe.

"I… I'm…" Daemon swallowed hard. "I'm fucking purple…" he griped.

"You were fucked purple," Sam teased, tracing his fingers through the mess coating Daemon's inner thigh.

Daemon shivered with the touch, his breath coming in stuttered gasps until Sam took his hand away.

“Still sensitive?”

The man only glared. "What do you… think?"

Sam flexed his fingers, watching them transform back to the clawed nails of his Daedric form. "Oh, Babe. You don't want to know what I think." He began to climb Daemon, almost careful to not touch.

Daemon wetted his lips. He wasn't sure if he'd actually welcome the Daedra's touch. To feel Sam's hands on his hips, his stomach. To rise up his belly and smooth over his chest.

"Such a darling mess you are, Dae. Let's clean you up, hmmm?" The Daedra's head dipped as he hummed, his lips drawing closer to his collarbone. He pressed a kiss to Daemon's painted skin and earned a restrained hiss from the man's mouth. "I'm going to have to clean you thoroughly." His forked tongue flicked out to Daemon's still-pert nipple. Sam lapped at the nub contentedly, the twin tips of his tongue dexterously squeezing together to torment.

Flesh overly responsive, Daemon flinched, his hands grabbing at Sam's shoulders to…

He wasn't sure what.

A part of him wanted to push the Daedra away, to get some space and clean the slime from his body. The other part of him wanted Sam to continue, wanted Sam to lick him clean. Completely. 

"Fuck…" _ You. _ He wanted to say. The rest of his words had been choked. Swallowed behind the Daedra forcing his way into Daemon's mouth, his tongue sharing its earlier sampling of Daemon's body.

"Fuck _ me, _ Dae," Sam whispered when they broke apart. "We both know you want to."

Daemon only had one answer for Sam as his arms tugged the Daedra back to him.


	6. Fragility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delicious fanart by Doppi ^^

Winter was never kind for Daemon. Without a real home to retreat to, he spent most of the cold weather holed up in an abandoned cave near Markarth as crossing the border south had its own challenges for him.

The wind whistled across the gaps of his makeshift seal across the stone mouth as the smoke from his dying fire curled thickly around the ceiling. Buried in a pile of furs, he sat huddled as close to the fire’s warmth as he could. 

Daemon coughed, his throat sore and raspy. He had eaten the last of the honey treats he had stored for the inevitable winter sick and was now having to weather the worst of his illness without. 

With a sniffle, his gaze drifted lazily to the pile of wood stored further from the flames. He had already used all the wood he had piled closer, and would have to leave what warmth remained of the dimming fire to fetch more.

He rose, and his head spun with vertigo. He waited a few seconds for it to clear before continuing his trek towards the woodpile, furs still bunched upon his shoulders. 

Daemon knelt by the wood and began shifting a few logs to his arms. With great effort he stood, only to have another pounding throb assault his head. 

The logs tumbled from his frozen fingers, then… black.

****

Daemon woke in an unfamiliar space. 

For starters, he was in a bed - a far cry from the bedroll he had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. It was dark, but red lanterns were casting a low light across the intricately decorated space.

He tried to sit up, only to have a firm hand on his bare shoulder push him back to the pillows. “You’re lucky Mephala owed me a favor. You were hard to find.” Oddly, there was none of Sam's usual cheer in his voice. The Daedra's fists clenched and unclenched several times in quick repetition.

There was a response sitting on Daemon’s tongue, but it was trapped behind the heavy haze settling behind his eyes and heating his head. A cool cloth was placed across his forehead, covering his eyes. The cloth’s placement felt slightly intentional. Daemon could at least still hear Sam's awkward shifting beside him. 

“Dae…” 

With a heavy arm, Daemon pulled back the cloth. He glanced at the Daedra, finding his tattoos glowing brightly. Far brighter than any time before.

“Why in Oblivion is this one of your kinks?!” Sam ran his palms up and down his face. His next words were muffled behind his hands. “A nursing kink… I should have suspected earlier…” The Daedra flailed slightly before his inhuman gaze fell to Daemon.

Daemon could only grin stupidly. It had taken the Daedra quite a while to figure it out. He could almost say he was proud of himself.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, Babe. This kink is one of my least favorites. You’ll need a new one.”

“But, I like this one.” His voice rasped against his throat. He sounded horrible.

Sam quirked a smile. “Babe, your hedonism right now tastes fucking delicious, but there is no way I can fuck you like this. You'd probably die.”

“I'm sure you'd find that an inconvenience.” Daemon suddenly sneezing lessened any impact his sarcasm had.

The Daedra grabbed the cloth from Daemon’s hand and slapped it back across his face. “Just… get better. You owe me after this.”

“No kiss?”

Fast steps returned to Daemon’s side. He felt a press against his lips, almost chaste in its action. It was very unlike the Daedra.

“Get better. I’ll have Staff make you some soup if I can find him.”

“Alright,” Daemon wheezed between coughs.

“And, stop taking. You sound awful, and it's killing my boner.”

****

Staff, someone Daemon had yet to meet, was currently missing. Sam had personally complained to Daemon waving the resignation letter in his face about it. Soup had to come by other means. Means of which Sam would adamantly refuse to admit involved him following said recipe scribbled hastily on the back of the parchment.

“He can’t just quit. Can he? I mean, of course not. No one ‘quits’.” Perched on the edge of the bed, Sam seemed to be having his own crisis - which for the moment, suited Daemon just fine. “It hasn’t been that bad…”

It wasn’t every day, you got to see the Prince of Debauchery actually regretting something. 

“And, you…” Sam took a moment from his personal crisis to point at Daemon. “What on Mara’s honking tits are you so damn pleased about? Uggh, you’re giving me such weird…” He wiggled his arms as words escaped him. 

Sam might have been complaining, but his tattoos were giving off a constant bright glow. It almost hurt to look at him for too long. 

"Just… Fuck…" He stared hard at Daemon as if he could just summon some sort of answer from the man. 

Daemon was not forthcoming with any answers. Instead, his throat thanked him as he took another slow sip after blowing gently on it. Tired, he let the spoon drop back to the bowl in his lap where he let it stay. He had only managed to get halfway through it.

"Nuh-uh. You're eating all of that," scolded Sam, taking both wooden bowl and spoon from him. "If I had to actually slave away in a kitchen, then the least you can do is finish."

"I thought… I thought you said you didn't make it…" The spoon halted in its path towards Daemon's lips, and Daemon bent forward to sip the broth as Sam remained temporarily stunned. 

The action seemed to shake the Daedra from his stupor. "Yooooooou…" Words escaped the usually eloquent Daedra, and the spoon wiggled in his direction.

"Me," Daemon smirked and fell back into the pillows. He felt… content.

* * *

He supposed his true problems didn't arise until after his fever broke.

"Dae…" whined Sam as he gave the man a prod to the cheek. "Dae, I'm so horny."

Still bleary-eyed with sleep, Daemon roused to find the Daedra naked and curled up on top of him, pinning him beneath the blankets. There was a hand sneaking its way up the covers to hook a finger around the rose-gold chain around Daemon's throat. And, with a slight tug, the Daedra fished out the cock ring attached to it.

Sam stared at the metal ring with affection, or whatever the Daedra's equivalent of affection was. "It's been too long, Dae… You have to be better by now…" The ring was tapped against the man's nose as Sam slowly ground his hips against Daemon. His tattoos were glowing dully but were undeniably growing brighter as Daemon grew more awake.

"I am certain there are others who could satisfy this inane need of yours…" While Daemon was feeling better, he was only just better. His throat still felt thick in places and his head was stuffed with cotton.

"Others?! Dae. Babe. You are a fucking steak in front of a saber-tooth, and you continue to offer it potatoes instead."

"I'm sure this saber-tooth can survive on potatoes."

Sam's nose wrinkled again - a behavior Daemon was beginning to recognize whenever something hadn't quite gone the Daedra's way.

"Dae. I have fucked just about everything within a hundred-mile radius of you. Except you." The Daedra began kneading into the sheets. "Just a taste. I need a sample of a real piece of meat." The kneading traveled lower, and there grew no doubt of what piece of 'meat' Sam was after.

"Then take it up with Peryite. I'm not sick by choice."

The Daedra's kneading stopped, his expression flicking briefly to irritation.

Daemon let out a sharp bark of laughter that quickly morphed into a cough. "You already did, didn't you?"

"He said your cold wasn't his doing…" muttered Sam quietly.

"Good to know." Daemon shifted to sit up, earning a distinct purr from the heavy Daedra grinding down on him as he did so.

The kneading returned. "Dae…. Babe. Please…"

"Whatever happened to never begging."

"I don't." The Daedra nuzzled against the sheets. "I'm not."

With a chuckle, Daemon slid an arm out and stroked his fingers through the Daedra's hair, mindful of the horns protruding from his scalp. 

Sam's tattoos twisted with the sudden affection, flaring bright and suddenly dulling. "F-f-f-fuck, Dae," Sam stuttered. The Daedra's black and red eyes flicking up to him from his spot on Daemon's chest. "You are going to be the death of me."

"If I could only be so lucky."

"I'm serious, Dae." The Daedra resumed his nuzzling, his expression disappearing from sight. "I am so fucking serious."

Daemon paused, but then continued the light petting.

"I am so fucking serious…" The Daedra only ground down on him harder, rutting against the sheet separating their bodies as his fingers coiled tightly around the covers. "If only I could replace those missing petals… Halt their falling."

"Petals…?"

Sam froze. "I didn't say anything. You must be sicker than I thought." The Daedra tried to extract himself, his own desire to stay warring on his face.

Daemon caught his arm. He was curious. "I didn't say you did. What about the missing petals? Does it have anything to do with your staff?" He had noticed that it was looking sparser as time went on.

"No," the Daedra answered almost a little too quickly.

"So it does."

Sam almost glared at him. Almost. It twisted into something else before it manifested. "Why aren't you dumber?"

It was an odd accusation. 

"Even Mora's champion is dumber than you are…"

A very odd accusation. Not to mention the Daedra was trying to switch the topic.

"What about the petals, Sam?"

"I shouldn't have made you my champion…" He leaned back casually, supporting his weight with his arms.

Daemon's brow furrowed and he refused to release his grip. "The petals, Sam."

"They fall every time the staff is used. Every time I use more than a mortal's worth of magic on Nirn…"

"What happens when the last one falls?"

"Then… you aren't my champion anymore…"

"So…?"

Sam stared heavily at the ground, his tattoos dying to such a low glow that they almost looked like normal ink. 

He eventually turned back to Daemon, his expression as if his early seriousness never existed. He stepped his fingers up Daemon’s leg, his hand slowing to linger around Daemon's crotch. "Why do you want to know this, Dae? It's boring anyway. Let's do something fun."

Daemon let go of Sam’s arm. It was quite apparent that Sam wasn’t going to share anymore. At least until his… needs were met.

“I suppose… Can I hope this saber-tooth will be gentle?”

The Daedra paused, then a slow grin began to spread across his face. A low rumble started in his chest. “Cats usually like to play with their prey. But, I suppose this one can try to be gentle…” Sam dipped his head, and Daemon rose to meet his lips.


	7. You Will Be the Death of Me

Daemon’s eyes fell back to the staff. To the three petals that still adorned it. Three. A reminder of some inevitable countdown. 

“What about love?” he asked, continuing to button up the front of his shirt. 

“Love?” Sam propped himself back up on his elbows. “What about it?”

Daemon paused, his thoughts were afraid to be put into words. “What about us?”

Sam grew quiet. He could tell what Daemon was fishing for. “I can’t love,” he said finally, his voice devoid of its earlier mischief. “The moment my addiction for that sweet, sweet ass of yours becomes something else…” The Daedra looked oddly pained. “My blood would boil, my skin would burn. Love is a poison, Dae. A horrible poison that would rot my soul from the inside out. Let’s just forget about it.”

“Sure…” The man resumed buttoning his shirt, a strange knot forming in his chest. He finished the last button, the normality of the task grounding him once more. “Tomorrow then?”

“Huh?”

“You were wanting to show me what else that thing of yours could do.”

Sam’s joviality returned with fervor. “I could show you right now.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

A small smile touched Daemon’s face as he pulled up his pants and tightened its leather laces. “Later. Maybe. Have a job near Dawnstar that I actually have to head towards.”

“But, you have a perfectly good job here…” Sam practically whined.

“Being your ‘cock warmer’ is not a job. You don’t pay me for it.”

“Babe. If it’s gold you want, I could drown you in the stuff.”

Daemon doesn’t even bother to look at the Daedra as he started putting on his leather armor. “Then I really would be your whore.”

“And, would that be such a bad thing?” Sam was lazing half out of the bed, the upper half of his body draping over the edge with his hair just grazing the floor. He cocked his head to one side as Daemon finally spared him a glance.

Daemon sighed, but it was filled with affection. “Some people actually like working.”

Sam groaned. “Uuuuugh. I knooooooow. The fucking sappy pleasure I get from you after a ‘job-well-done’ is so excruciatingly nauseating. Have some pride man! For fucking sake please just enjoy yourself from rubbing one out in an alley, or even just drinking a gallon til you pass out.” 

“You would miss it.”

The Daedra groaned again, his hands balling into fists against his face. 

Daemon took that as a reluctant, ‘yes’.

“Do you have any idea how rare it is in this day and age… I mean without someone being a total psycho?”

“Maybe I’m a ‘psycho’ and just haven’t let you know yet.”

“It would explain so much…” Sam was grumbling, but he was also grinning again. If Daemon hadn’t known any better his expression looked fond.

He grabbed his weapons belt and headed for the door. His hand rested on the door frame. “Sam?”

“Yeah…?”

“I… I’ll see you around.”

He could almost hear the confused crinkle of Sam’s brows. “Of course,” the Daedra replied matter-of-factly, shifting in the bed to find a more comfortable spot.

* * *

“That poor soul. The poor _ noble _soul.” 

Sanguine rolled his eyes. She was probably just jealous he had snagged Daemon first. Laid a temporary exclusivity on his soul. “No one asked you, Meridia. Besides, why the hell are you even here?!”

“My champion had misplaced my beacon. I was returning it to her pack when I happened to overhear your patheticness. How long do you intend to lead him like this? You'll just lose interest, just like the others before him.”

“None of your business…” Sanguine bitterly mumbled into the sheets. The other Prince was sapping the warmth of Daemon’s residual scent with her presence. “Why don’t you worry about your own champion? Sounds like you have a ditz on your hands.”

Meridia bristled. “You will not speak about my champion that way.”

“Or what…?” He feigned a yawn as he sat up and stretched.

"Or-"

Sanguine didn’t get to hear whatever threat Meridia had in mind, or whatever threat she would act on. The door to Daemon’s rented room opening ended whatever words she had in mind, as she quickly vanished before being discovered by the waif-like mouse that had just entered.

“Eek! Oh, my… Oh my… You are very naked. I am so sorry. I thought this was my room.” The door slammed shut, hard enough to rattle the frame of pressed flowers against the wall.

_ Ditz… _ reiterated Sanguine’s thoughts, strangely not even remotely interested in pursuing Meridia’s little mouse. His fingers curled around the sheets and he pressed them to his nose. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell Daemon on them.

* * *

Daemon tiredly made it back to his rented room, having just convinced the innkeeper not to call the guards on him for the amount of blood decorating the front of his armor. There had only been so much beating the leather against the rocks by the riverside could do to get the dried gore out.

He had been ambushed on his latest job, or lack thereof. Someone had wanted him dead. Someone who - after an extremely long day - was dead themselves for setting up the unclever hit.

When his room was empty, no sign of the Daedra, he felt… He sighed. He felt disappointed.

Oddly disheartened, he dropped his things and quickly stripped down to his underclothes. He'd sleep, then head out. 

Daemon could survive on his rations for a few more days, and he knew of a hunter or two in the area who could help stretch his stores even longer. It would keep him out of civilization for a while, but with no coin sleeping in a bed wasn't a luxury he could afford for much longer. A luxury he found himself frequently indulging in.

He wiped a hand down his face as if the action could somehow wipe away his exhaustion.

It didn't, but it did draw his eyes to the open window, and the beam of sunlight striking… Sanguine's unattended staff.

_ 'Love is a Poison, Dae… Let's just forget about it…' _

The flower topping the staff had only one petal remaining and even that had begun to wilt. It was a dour comparison to what its splendor had been with the earlier three.

_ Were the petal’s absences a message? Was Daemon to be the one to finally end it? _

He wondered what Sam had used the staff for. A spontaneous orgy, maybe. It was in Sam’s nature after all. 

_ 'You will be the death of me…' _

Daemon grabbed the staff.

_ ‘I shouldn’t have made you my champion…’ _

He hoped it had been worth it.

* * *

"Miss me?" Sanguine announced, having decided to mix things up by arriving in a full flourish of confetti and fanfare. He had been getting too predictable. Always lounging somewhere in the man's newest rented room. He could afford to have Daemon waiting for his inevitable arrival for once.

Sanguine froze when he saw his staff in Daemon’s hands, when he saw the pained determination in the man’s features. Every surprise he had prepared, fizzled before it manifested.

The rose was down to one petal now. Somehow in the few minutes he had left it unattended, Daemon must have already used it twice.

“Daemon!”

The man turned to face him. 

“Please, Babe.” it was the closest Sam had ever gotten to truly begging someone. But, he just needed to bide some time, just enough to get close to wrestle the staff from the man’s hands. His dark eyes darted between the single petal clinging desperately and his addiction’s tired, caramel eyes. “You don’t want to do that.”

“Why?” Daemon asked, the single word piercing Sanguine, to be a sharp blade twisting in his heart.

“Why?” Sanguine chuckled, taking a step closer. 

_ Because I’ll forget you… _

He took another cautious step. “Why let a good thing just spoil?”

_ Because I won’t ever fucking remember you… I won’t remember… us… _

“Was it good?”

“The best, Dae. Just give me the staff.” Sanguine had no idea when the next rose would bloom. He wouldn’t know if his damnable instincts would even pull him back to his addiction’s side. The Daedric Prince had no idea, and for once the uncertainty held nothing but dread. “The party won’t have to end…” 

Daemon’s hands curled tighter around the staff, a momentary uncertainty flicking over his angular features. “Won’t it?”

“Well… You know I can’t make any commitments, but I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Could, but I’m tired, Sam.”

“It’s late. We can talk about this later.”

“Later huh…? I don’t know if there can be a later...”

“Of course there can be.” Sanguine’s eyes focused hard on the thorned staff. He was so close to being able to take it. To hide it somewhere Daemon could never find it again. He could indulge in the sweet nectar of the man’s disciplined hedonism, and delve deep into the lust of his spirit… Forever… He would find a way.

_ But, he couldn't if he forgot… _

"Sam…?" Daemon sighed.

"Yeah?"

“I love you…”

The moment Daemon’s words registered in his mind, it was like a switch had been flipped. One that Sanguine knew couldn’t be flipped back easily. 

The confession tore through Sanguine, and he winced with the ferocity of it. Its truth ripped and shredded his being, his soul, causing him inexplicable torment. His hand retreated from Daemon like the man was suddenly made of fire.

His withdrawal drew a disappointed twitch from his addiction’s lips and Sanguine knew he had messed up - even as the close proximity to Daemon caused his blood to boil him alive. He should have just bore the pain. It would have bought him the precious time he needed.

Instead, Daemon went unhindered as he brought the staff high into the air, then tamped it hard into the ground. The staff squealed and hissed as its last petal fell. 

“No!” Cursing his earlier distraction, his very wretched nature, Sanguine reached for out it again in one last desperate bid, the skin on his hands burning black and falling away. 

But, there was nothing that could be done. 

The staff withered before his eyes, then crumbled into a pile of fine powder. He sank to his knees, the remnants of his staff drifting through his fading fingers.

_ Why? _ his mind asked- begged, already knowing the answer as the balm of forgetfulness began to take him, his connection to Nirn temporarily broken. 

_ Because he couldn’t love… couldn’t be loved… Not in the way Daemon did… deserved… _

But, Sanguine was still selfish. This man was his, and he would gladly set his soul ablaze for him to make sure he knew it. "Dae, I lo-" 

Eyes met and then…

"Dae, I…" 

_ He what…? _

"Dae…"

_ Dae… who…? _

It maddened him not to know. To not recognize the disappearing face before him. He reached out desperate to remain… to hold… 

_ Hold who…? _

"I…"

And, then there was nothing, save for the rosy glow of Oblivion welcoming him back from his last bout of mischief.

“I’m back,” he cheered to his swarm of lust-filled faithful, feeling just slightly emptier than usual. Like he had just lost something so very precious. “Did you lot miss me?”

_ But, he couldn’t remember what it was. _

* * *

Without even really thinking about it, Daemon found himself back at the tavern, a heavy tankard in hand and staring into its depths like he could find the world’s answers within its golden hue. He sighed heavily, the rose-gold chain around his throat feeling that much heavier. 

It had been three years, and… His grip tightened around the cup. The only thing that seemed to have changed was the added grey in his hair.

_ What was he hoping for…? _

“Now here looks like a man who can drink,” his ears perked, but when the familiar voice hadn’t been directed at him, he took a deep swig to finish his drink. He let the tankard fall back to the bartop with a hard thump. 

_ He wondered how long this one would last… _

“Another,” he demanded of the barkeep.

The barkeep, some unshaven Nord, recognized the look of heartbreak. Quietly, he filled Daemon’s tankard to full again.

Daemon mouthed a ‘thank-you’, his hands slipping back around the cup to cradle it like a lost lover.

“Name’s Sam. Sam Guevenne. And, how about a friendly contest to win a staff?”

His thumbs drew soft lines up the side of the tankard, and he brought it slowly to his lips.

“Ha! We’ll see about that…”

His lips drew to tankard’s edge to let the sweet liquid kiss his tongue, where he invited its sting to slid down his throat.

“One down, my friend. One down.”

He closed his eyes, letting himself drown in the honey mead. Let his feelings dull with the taste of alcohol as he probably should have let them all those years ago.

“I know this great little place where the wine flows like water.”

Daemon rested his forehead against the wood of the cup. Let its grain press into his forehead to leave its mark.

“We should head there.”

Behind him, stools scratched across the floor and two pairs of feet drunkenly sauntered from the tavern. The door slammed shut, and Daemon was left staring once more into the depths of his drink. 

_ He wondered when it would be his turn again… If it would ever be his turn again… _


End file.
